


Part of Your World

by Aschenfluegel



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Little Mermaid Parody With Plot, M/M, Slow Burn, Some Political Intrigue, Some Suspense, merman au, mostly romance, some mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 73,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3185840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aschenfluegel/pseuds/Aschenfluegel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Motonari is a merman. Motochika is a pirate. Both spend their life surrounded by water and yet they could not be more different. One fateful day they meet. The rest... is history.</p><p>Also posted on ff.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love at First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got around to posting this story here as well! Only took me a year or two. Heh. Anyway, I decided to upload this story to the Archive in preparation for future explicit content that will be exclusively available on this site due to certain restrictions on ff.net. All explicit content will be entirely skippable though, in case any of you would rather not read it! The rating of this story will change when the time comes.
> 
> About this story... There is drama and there is romance, but it's a parody more than anything else. Try not to take it too seriously!

Once upon a time...

These are the words you are certain to read in every fairy tale, just as night will eventually give way to day and the sun is certain to rise in the east.

There is a pattern: a protagonist finds themselves in a bit of a predicament, and often there is an antagonist to be blamed for it all. Though faced with many a test and trial, the protagonist will eventually triumph and earn their happy ending. The wolf is slayed, the witch shoved into the oven, the wicked queen dethroned. Sometimes there is a wedding but even when there is not, they all live happily ever after.

Except for the wolf and the witch and the wicked queen, naturally.

The protagonist of this particular tale is a little merman by the name of Mori Motonari. Surely he would be quite displeased indeed to hear his story likened to a fairy tale, but there is no denying that it fit the pattern. His current situation was unpleasant to say the least; untangling himself from it would certainly require quite a bit of work. And for it all, there was one man and one man alone to be held responsible.

To be fair, that man is not the villain of this story - regardless of what Motonari would have you believe - but even if this little detail deviates from the basic formula, there will still be tests and there will still be trials. And after all is said and done - who knows? - there might even be a happy ending befitting of a proper fairy tale.

But don’t get your hopes up about that wedding.

Before we figure out what exactly is so horrible about the predicament that Motonari has found himself in and who exactly this mystery man is, let’s rewind a little to a point in time where things had not yet gone to hell in a handbasket.

x--x--x 

Ever since the Great War had claimed his home, life underneath the surface had not changed much for Mori Motonari. Each day, he went through the motions, following the very same routine that had been set for him by none other than King Hideyoshi’s trusted advisor, strategist and right-hand man, a sickly young merman by the name of Takenaka Hanbei.

To be honest, it was beginning to get a little tedious.

He was tired of waiting for a change in his situation, and yet wait was all he could do under Hanbei’s watchful gaze. Motonari liked to think that he was every bit as brilliant as the white-haired merman - perhaps even more so - but while Hanbei was in a position of power, the same could not be said for Motonari. Even if he was part of the royal court in the eye of the public, he had no real influence on the important decisions and was denied access to any truly crucial information.

Hanbei had seen to that, very carefully limiting Motonari’s options and finding ways to subtly restrict his freedom. Clearly he recognized the threat that the manipulative brunet merman could potentially pose to Hideyoshi’s reign if left unchecked. In the beginning, being treated as such a force to be reckoned with had pleased and even flattered Motonari, but such sentiments had not lasted long. Now he felt little more than annoyance when his thoughts strayed to Takenaka Hanbei.

Still deeply lost in thought, Motonari lowered his coral comb. Absentmindedly he traced its brightly coloured surface and the inlaid pearls, marvelling at the excellent craftsmanship. It had been one of many generous gifts offered to him by a secret admirer brave enough to court the infamous Mori Motonari and yet not brave enough to sign his letters with a name. All Motonari knew was that he was dealing with a man - that much was obvious from the nature of the gifts and the content of the letters.

Either way, it mattered not. Motonari currently had no interest whatsoever in romance and very much doubted he would in the future. He had only bothered to keep the gifts because Hanbei had made gaining access to the fortune of the Mori Clan almost an impossibility and as a result Motonari rarely got the opportunity to spoil himself.

Takenaka Hanbei...

How he detested that smug little snake and his insistence to block Motonari at every possible turn. The strategist had done nothing but make life difficult for Motonari in the most infuriating ways. And worst of all, Hanbei simply refused to succumb to his mysterious illness and finally pass away like Motonari’s schemes demanded.

Sometimes, he wondered if Hanbei was faking it. But could one man really be so shrewd?

Irritated that his thoughts had once again managed to circle back to his greatest adversary, Motonari found himself grateful for the interruption to his pointless brooding when someone knocked on his door frame.

“Enter.”

In place of a proper giant clam door, Motonari’s quarters had only been outfitted with a curtain made of small shells and colourful stones to give the illusion of privacy and lull him into a false sense of security. It went without saying that he had yet to fall for such an obvious ploy to catch him unawares. Expectantly, Motonari turned his head and watched the curtain part to reveal his visitor.

As usual, Otani Yoshitsugu moved very slowly, crawling forward on his eight suction cup bearing limbs. With his upper body swathed in long strips of seaweed to hide the outward signs of his illness and his face mostly obscured by a grotesque mask, even Motonari had to admit that he looked nothing short of menacing.

As Yoshitsugu approached, Motonari caught the merman’s curious gaze straying to the comb still held so delicately in his hands. Those dark eyes were gleaming with far more interest than Motonari was comfortable with. Regretfully, Yoshitsugu was aware of Motonari’s monetary plight; he knew he would not squander what little funds he did have on something as frivolous as an expensive comb.

Poseidon only knew what conclusions that twisted mind was currently arriving at.

Very deliberately, Motonari set the comb down and slid it out of sight. Then he turned to face Yoshitsugu more fully.

“What do you want?” he asked. Blunt and to the point, but no more brusque than usual.

Yoshitsugu stopped advancing a couple of paces from Motonari’s location. His tone was courteous and quite charming when he spoke but Motonari knew better. It was all a front to hide the man’s manipulative and treacherous nature.

“I merely thought to see how you were faring today. Must you always suspect that I harbour some hidden agenda or untoward intentions when I come see you?”

Motonari did not even deign to honour that farce of a question with a reply. Instead he merely raised his chin a little and threw Yoshitsugu a haughty look.

“Well then, now that you have ascertained that I am indeed alive and healthy, I suggest you be on your way.”

A raspy, painful sounding chuckle was Yoshitsugu’s reply.

“Now, now, Mori. There is no need to be so dismissive.”

One of the pearls constantly spinning in a circle at Yoshitsugu’s back floated forwards, hovering over his upturned palm. His eyes gazed so intently at the object slowly twirling above his hand that one might think all the answers to the universe lay hidden within its opaque depths. Casually, Yoshitsugu continued talking.

“If my estimation of the time is correct, the royal court should be convening for another council of war as we speak...”

Motonari said nothing.

After a moment of silence, Yoshitsugu said: “You do not seem surprised. Then I take it this time there was no unfortunate... _error_ , shall we put it, and news of the meeting properly found its way to you?”

Last time the council had gathered, Motonari had received no prior notice. It had been made to look like an accident but Motonari knew that the information had been kept from him quite deliberately. Falling victim to such a childish prank had been a blow to his pride and the entire incident was still a sore subject for him. Yoshitsugu was clearly fishing for a reaction - some irritation, or some embarrassment perhaps - but Motonari kept his face blank.

“Indeed it has. Now if you will excuse me... I still fail to see the point of your visit, and I do have a meeting to attend. I’d like to finish making myself presentable.”

“Ah, I do not think you will need to bother with that...”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m afraid you will not be attending today’s meeting,” Yoshitsugu said, the floating pearl travelling in a high arch towards his other hand as he spoke.

 _Now_ he had Motonari’s attention.

“I beg your _pardon_?” Motonari said, eyes narrowing.

“It appears the scouts have spotted a suspicious human ship loitering about in our waters--”

“And how pray tell does that concern me?”

“Patience, Mori,” Yoshitsugu said, his tone chiding but with a strong hint of amusement underlying the reprimand. Yoshitsugu was enjoying this, the bastard. “His Majesty wished for the level of threat to be assessed by a person whose judgement on such a matter can be trusted, and Hanbei has selected you for the task. As such, your presence will be required elsewhere today. The kingdom’s security may be at stake.”

Motonari was fuming, his tone clipped as he spoke.

“So that was the point of your visit? To tell me that I will be oh so conveniently missing another meeting? Then why not simply say so instead of wasting my time with your idle talk?”

“I was not lying when I said that I wished to see how you were faring, my friend. Between your duties and mine, we do talk so seldomly... It truly is a shame.”

Motonari sneered.

“As _touching_ as your sentiments are, I’m afraid my _duties_ demand my attention - as I am sure yours do as well. So if you would excuse me now...”

Yoshitsugu inclined his head, seemingly unaffected by the open contempt in Motonari’s tone.

“Of course... Just one last thing, then I shall leave you be. There is an escort waiting for you at the gate; they will guide you to where the ship in question has last been spotted.”

Motonari nodded sharply, then gestured towards the door, rudely dismissing his unwelcome visitor.

In response to such impatience, the seaweed covering Yoshitsugu’s mouth twitched slightly. His mirth was audible in his voice when he said: “Very well then. I will be eagerly awaiting news of your return. Be safe, my friend. I would be saddened greatly if anything... _untoward_ should happen to you.”

And with these ominous words, Yoshitsugu finally took his leave.

x--x--x 

Decked out in full battle gear - it was always best to be prepared - Mori Motonari made his way through the castle’s corridors at a quick, irate pace.

The unexpected events of this morning had made him furious. His anger showed in every sharp movement of his fins and the deep scowl painted on his usually blank face. Internally, he was cursing both Takenaka Hanbei and Otani Yoshitsugu in turn, one for putting him in this position and the other for being so insufferable.

There was nothing at all that could have made his day any worse than it already was. Not a single thing.

At least Motonari thought so until he heard an irritatingly high-pitched, girlish voice calling out his name.

“Motonari! Oh, Motonari! Wait up!”

Motonari grit his teeth and stubbornly kept going, pretending he hadn’t heard her. The mermaid hot on his fins put on a remarkable burst of speed and darted past him, blocking his path.

As he had feared, it was the Oracle.

They were about the same size, with similarly fine-boned features and very delicate hands. Even their hair was cut in a similar fashion, adding to the effect and allowing them to convincingly pass as siblings should the need ever arise. If his tail had not been green and the Oracle’s not a pinkish salmon colour, people might even have confused them for each other from afar.

Tsuruhime was her actual name, and she ranked rather high on Motonari’s list of people he could not stand the mere sight of. Said list contained every single person he had ever met, with Takenaka Hanbei having the questionable honour of being right at the top.

Heaving a heavy sigh of defeat, Motonari came to a halt in front of the Oracle. It was obvious that she would not let him leave unless he acknowledged her and listened to whatever mind-numbing drivel she was going to bore him with this time.

“What do you want?” Motonari asked none too kindly, prompting Tsuruhime to give him one of her infamous pouts.

“Must you always be so abrasive? Why, I’ll have you know that it’s no way to treat a lady!”

“Which lady? I only see a spoilt brat, wasting my time.”

Tsuruhime crossed her arms over her chest with a glare that was a far cry from her usually cheerful, bubbly attitude.

“See, that is exactly what I mean! Why any woman would want to put up with such treatment for any amount of time let alone the rest of her life, I really do not know!”

“Rest assured, I find you equally as distasteful,” Motonari said, internally rolling his eyes at the idea of himself being tempted into a relationship with anyone, ever. “Now, if you have nothing of value to offer me, get out of my way.”

Having grown impatient, Motonari didn’t wait for Tsuruhime to respond; instead he took it upon himself to try and circle around her.

He didn’t get far.

With the same speed she had displayed earlier, Tsuruhime made a grab for Motonari’s arm, invading his personal space to keep him from leaving.

“Wait, wait, _wait_! The truth is, this _is_ important! I had a vision about you this morning, and I need to tell you that--”

Tsuruhime’s predictions had an eerily high accuracy rate and it was always a good idea to hear her out when she was willing to share, but Motonari wasn’t listening.

Right now, he was busy feeling highly uncomfortable with having anyone so close to his person, unused as he was to such contact. A shudder went through his body and he wrenched his arm from Tsuruhime’s grip, pushing her away in the process.

“Get away from me! I do not have the time to listen to your mindless nonsense!”

Tsuruhime gaped, stunned for a moment or two. Then she gave a haughty little sniff and turned up her nose in the very same contemptuous manner that Motonari was prone to.

“Fine then! Go! See if I care!” she shot back.

Motonari sent her a withering glare - she responded by sticking out her tongue - and without ever finding out what exactly Tsuruhime had been about to tell him, he was on his way again.

In retrospect, he really should have listened.

x--x--x 

Just as Yoshitsugu had promised, there was an escort waiting for Motonari when he finally arrived at the gate.

It was a group of soldiers, dressed for battle just like Motonari was. Some faces he recognized and some he did not, but in either case it did not escape his notice that none of the men had been part of his army when he was still the Lord of Aki.

Their loyalties lay with King Hideyoshi exclusively, not with Motonari.

A pity, but of course Hanbei would never willingly give Motonari a chance to conspire with his former soldiers in private. At least not without planting a spy amongst them, that is.

Motonari approached the group and received a more detailed report of the situation. Shortly after that, they departed, one of the soldiers taking the lead, two flanking Motonari’s sides and two more guarding his back. Their destination was the surface, where they would search for signs of this mysterious human ship and hopefully confirm if it was a threat to the kingdom or not.

The closer they got to the surface, the warmer the water surrounding them became. It was only now that Motonari realized just how cold it was deep down at the very bottom of the ocean, where King Hideyoshi’s castle was located. He had never noticed before.

When a mermaid or a merman came off age, they gained the right to swim to the surface - but only once. After that, it was forbidden to break the surface without express permission from the King.

Motonari had never made use of that right.

As a child, he had soaked up all stories and legends about life on the surface very much like a sponge soaks up water. The idea of beings that spent all day in the sun wandering freely on these strange things they called feet had fascinated him. Often he had found himself wondering... what would it be like, to be part of that world?

But then he had been named successor to the Mori Clan and with that new title had come a whole slew of new responsibilities to be placed upon his young shoulders. The Lord of Aki did not have time to daydream about such frivolous matters. The Lord of Aki had to plan, he had to scheme, he had to manipulate.

And with time, Motonari’s interest in the surface world and its odd inhabitants had waned.

Now, as they drew ever closer to their goal, his fascination returned full force. There was a bright, shining light casting its rays through the water’s surface, warmer and more welcoming than anything Motonari had ever experienced before.

The sun.

It had to be the sun.

Motonari found himself swimming faster, weaving his way through the group of soldiers until he had passed them. Ignoring a shouted warning, he put on one last burst of speed. One last, powerful beat of his tail and he broke the surface.

For the very first time in his life, Mori Motonari drew breath.

And before he could properly savour that first taste of air, said breath was promptly stolen from him once more.

The sight that greeted Motonari was magnificent. Absolutely breathtaking. Never before had he seen anything more beautiful. It was the sun, in all its wondrous glory - proudly sitting there like a gem in the clear blue sky and shining more radiantly than anything you could find under the sea.

Motonari had to avert his gaze, unable to look directly at such brilliance.

Even then he could still _feel_ the sun, its warmth gently caressing his face like the mother he had never known.

It was in that very moment that the unthinkable, the unimaginable happened.

Mori Motonari fell in love.

He barely had any time to process that thought before all hell broke loose.

An unexpected wave hit him and dunked him back under. As soon as he was submerged completely under water again, he realized that something was wrong.

The soldiers were crying out in alarm and yelling for him to retreat. Motonari hastily opened his eyes to try and figure out what the threat was and where it was coming from, but his vision had not yet recovered from gazing at the sun for so long. He could barely see anything, so his only option was to pick a random direction, hope for the best and expect the worst.

What happened next was not quite the worst thing that could have happened. Indeed, some may even argue that it was the _best_ thing that had ever happened to Motonari. But when Motonari felt himself getting hopelessly entangled in what had to be a man-made fishing net, he very much believed no fate could have been worse.

The net closed around him, pushing dozens of flailing, squirming fish against his body. Motonari struggled and he fought, but it was a futile effort. The net was expertly made; there was no escape.

For the second time that day, Mori Motonari broke the surface - this time unwillingly.

x--x--x 

“Looks like we got a big haul this time, Cap’n!” came an excited shout.

It was a man’s voice, originating from a big, sturdy ship made of reddish wood. Its most striking feature - even more striking than the demonic looking figurehead - was the humungous cannon that had been mounted on top of it. All things considered, the vessel looked much more like a mighty fortress than a mere ship.

Several burly men in various states of undress were up on deck, their faces weathered and their skin bronzed by the sun. A number of them were busy attempting to reel in a huge fishing net, their faces twisted up in grimaces of exertion.

“Aye, it be a big haul indeed,” one of the men hissed out between gritted teeth. “I reckon we be goin’ t’ need some help here, Cap’n!”

“Be there in a minute,” another man yelled back.

He handed off the steering wheel to someone else before jumping down onto deck to lend the struggling men a helping hand. His build did not fall short compared to that of the rest of the crew, but with his silver hair and purple eyepatch, he still stuck out like a bit of a sore thumb.

Chosokabe Motochika was his name, but at sea he was only known as the White Sea Devil of the West.

“Avast, men! Together now!” he commanded, grabbing onto one end of the rope. “Heave- _ho_ , heave- _ho_...!”

And with joined forces, it didn’t take much longer for them to pull the net with all its contents over the railing and onto the ship.

It was then that the routine task of fishing took a turn for the extraordinary.

They had all heard the stories and the legends - in seedy, smoke-filled quayside bars where the rum was cheap and the women cheaper still, the kind that Motochika’s crew visited when they were on shore leave. After a mug or two, the old, retired sea dogs there liked to spin their yarn and tell tall tales of their past glory.

One such tale was that of creatures with the upper body of a woman and the tail of a fish. Creatures as elusive as they were beautiful. And dangerous, too, leading lonely seamen astray with their angelic singing voices. Legend had it that many a ship and its crew had found an untimely end, blinded and intoxicated by a mermaid’s song.

And now such a mythical creature had found its way into their net.

Sitting there amongst the squirming fish was a being the likes of which none of them had ever laid their eyes upon.

With unblemished porcelain skin and dark, wet hair clinging to finely chiseled features, the creature was beautiful enough that it would have turned heads even without its tail. The scales of green and gold and aquamarine glistened in the sunlight, almost making the appendage glow.

It was breathtaking.

Slowly, Motochika’s eye traced an admiring path from the very tip of delicate looking fins all the way along that glowing tail to womanly hips and a narrow waist. His gaze lingered perhaps a bit too long on the place where smooth skin gave way to scales right underneath the creature’s belly before continuing its journey upwards.

The sight of a man’s chest gave him pause. Never had he heard of a male mermaid, though he supposed if they were real and not just the product of fantasy, they did need to reproduce in some way.

Finally, Motochika’s gaze completed its journey, landing on the creature’s face.

Their eyes met.

There was both a fire and an indescribable coldness in the creature’s dark brown eyes, its face set in an expression of haughty contempt. It glared at Motochika, somehow managing to look down upon him despite its position on the ground.

Unexpectedly and perhaps a bit belatedly, a wave of giddy excitement hit Motochika.

A mermaid.

They had caught a real, honest to god mermaid. Well, technically a merman he supposed, but that didn’t dampen his spirits in the slightest.

The creature tensed and glared harder when a broad, toothy grin spread across Motochika’s face, his single golden eye glinting devilishly.

And then Chosokabe Motochika spoke his very first words to Mori Motonari; words that neither of them would ever forget.

“...now _that’s_ the catch of the day!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply apologize for Yoshitsugu’s creepiness, Motonari’s sun fetish, Hanbei’s refusal to die (Kidding, I adore Hanbei), Tsuruhime’s girliness, Motochika and his crew’s terrible pirate lingo as well as the misleading chapter title. I promise there will be romance eventually, but just not quite yet. Patience, my friends. We’ll get there.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read this thing, I hope you enjoyed it and if you’ve got any comments, suggestions, questions, complaints or requests, I’d love to hear from you in a review or a private message. Flames are okay too, there’s plenty of water in this story to douse them with.


	2. In the Belly of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Motonari is sent to the surface to investigate sightings of a suspicious human ship loitering about in King Hideyoshi’s waters. Once there, he falls in love with the sun and an unfortunate turn of events leads to him getting caught in Motochika’s net. He is not amused. Motochika, on the other hand, very much is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More awful pirate lingo this chapter, but I think you were expecting that.
> 
> Also, there is mention of the horrifyingly grotesque viperfish in this chapter, also known as the fang fish. I recommend you google it only if you weren’t planning on getting any sleep tonight, because it will give you nightmares.
> 
> Also also, kiiro apparently means yellow in Japanese, or so google tells me. I’ve dumbed it down to kiro for the sake of this story. Please forgive me and refrain from coming after me with bloody axes, pitchforks, torches or any combination thereof.
> 
> And on that note, enjoy!

How his day had managed to go from mildly irritating to this hellish incarnation of utter and absolute disaster, Motonari could not say for sure.

If anyone had told him this morning that come noon, he would find himself caught and captured like a _fish_ by a bunch of distasteful human savages, he would not have believed them. In fact, he would have sneered at them and called their intelligence into question. The illustrious Mori Motonari, falling prey to such simpletons?

The very notion was ridiculous.

Perhaps the Oracle could have told him how to avoid this humiliating fate; she had said she needed to tell him something of great importance, after all.

Motonari cursed himself now for not listening. He cursed Hanbei too, partly because blaming Takenaka Hanbei for anything and everything that went wrong in his life had become a habit of his and partly because without the sickly merman’s meddling, Motonari would not be where he was right now.

On a human ship, where none of his pawns were available and all of his schemes meant nothing.

Completely out of his element for the first time, Motonari felt exposed and irritatingly helpless. He did not even have his helmet or his ring blade for protection; both items had gotten lost in the confusion. Escape over the ship’s railing was sadly not an option either right now - without the salty sea water surrounding him and carrying part of his weight, his body felt oddly sluggish and heavy.

Essentially, Motonari was stuck, armed only with his wits and left at the mercy of these _humans_.

The one that had spoken to him before approached him now, casually sauntering towards Motonari with that very same infuriating grin on his face. He appeared to be their leader, if the powerful presence he exuded was anything to go by.

The human was tall, much taller than Motonari even if you were to measure him from the top of his head to the very tip of his fins. He was much more solidly built as well, and his hair was the very same silverish white colour as that of Takenaka Hanbei and Ishida Mitsunari.

Most striking of all were his eyes, one covered by an eyepatch in an annoying shade of purple and the other gleaming like molten gold.

Motonari could not stand the sight of him.

He tensed when the human crouched down in front of him amidst the writhing fish, tilting his head to the side curiously and studying him from up close and personal. The rest of the men were still eyeing him openly as well, slowly inching closer to get a better look.

Motonari hated the feeling of their eyes roaming over his body.

In fact, he hated this entire situation.

Motonari’s glare deepened and his body language gained a threatening edge, to which the white-haired human simply laughed. It was a deep, mirthful sound and under better circumstances, perhaps Motonari may have found it not entirely unpleasant. But right now, right here, he was deeply offended that he was being so obviously and quickly dismissed as no threat.

“Such a scary look on such a pretty face,” the human teased, grin growing impossibly wider. “Try smiling!”

Naturally, Motonari only scowled.

The human chuckled and leaned forward, hands reaching out for Motonari’s face. “Here, lemme show you how it’s done. You curve your lips up like th--”

_Smack._

Abruptly, the white-haired man’s sentence was cut off as fins connected rather soundly with his face. Motonari had acted on impulse, adjusting his position so he could use his tail to slap that irritating grin right off the man’s face.

“Do _not_ attempt to touch me again, you filthy son of a fang fish!” Motonari hissed, clumsily scooting away as far as he could before his back hit the railing.

The human had not seen that one coming at all. He fell back on his behind, then sputtered and tried to wipe the salty water off his face and out of his eye. A prominent red imprint of a certain merman’s tail was already blooming rather beautifully on his cheek, if you asked for Motonari’s humble opinion on the matter. The merman sniffed haughtily, quite pleased with his handiwork.

The human’s crew, however, was markedly less pleased with recent events and threateningly closed in on Motonari with dark looks painted across their features.

“Watch it, ye scurvy bilge rat,” one of the men said gruffly.

“Aye,” another agreed. “Ye think yer so clever, attackin’ the Cap’n like that? Gonna gut ye like a fish if ye go an’ try any more funny business like that.”

“Easy, men,” their leader said, having recovered from the blow to his face. He was sitting cross-legged now, and evidently, his good humour had not faded. If anything, he was now eyeing Motonari with a new sort of appreciation. “It was my mistake. Back off.”

Reluctantly, the crew did as they were ordered to, glowering at Motonari from a distance. Motonari briefly allowed relief to wash over him, but not for too long. His situation was still rather precarious.

“So you _do_ know how to speak after all,” the white-haired human mused, his annoying grin right back in place. “I was starting to wonder... But really, ‘filthy son of a fang fish’? Well, it’s certainly creative, I’ll give you that.”

Motonari threw the man a scalding look. “ _Of course_ I possess the ability of speech, you complete and utter nincompoop! What do you take me for, a common _fish_?”

“And you don’t like being touched...” the human continued on, undeterred, as if he hadn’t even heard Motonari’s barbs. “So if I do this...”

Again, he reached out for Motonari, and again Motonari acted entirely on instinct. Except this time, the human was ready and managed to catch Motonari’s tail before it had a chance to leave a matching red mark on the man’s other cheek.

With a powerful tug, Motonari found himself on his back before he was flipped none too gently onto his front. The rough treatment knocked the breath from his lungs and for a few crucial moments, he was too stunned to fight back.

When he could breathe properly again - and what a strange feeling drawing breath still was - Motonari found that the human had dragged him towards him and to the side. Now his tail was draped across the man’s lap, held securely in his hands while Motonari’s upper body rested on the wooden floorboards of the deck, perpendicular to the human’s form.

A horrified shudder went through Motonari’s frame when strong fingers traced a firm line along the side of his tail.

“Unhand me now, you brute!”

His demand fell on deaf ears. The human was apparently far too interested in exploring Motonari’s lower half with invasive fingers to pay heed to the merman’s wishes. Of course Motonari fought against the degrading hold, but his captor merely tightened his grip and kept him in place unyieldingly.

After a while, Motonari realized it was pointless to fight back and grudgingly lay still, his fingernails digging into the wood. He was waiting for the human to lower his guard and give him an opportunity to escape this torment. Until then, he would bide his time and make the man think he had surrendered.

Meanwhile, the unwanted attention continued, making Motonari’s fins twitch helplessly and his breath hitch whenever the human’s probing fingers found a particularly sensitive spot.

“Fascinating,” the human murmured, lightly dragging his nails over Motonari’s scales.

Motonari bit down on a gasp, shuddering again in what he fiercely told himself was pure and utter repulsion. Mortified, he realized that heat was beginning to crawl up the back of his neck. At once he resumed his struggling, trying to wriggle out of the human’s hold.

“You _fiend!_ I demand that you cease this assault immediately!”

“Assault? That’s going a little far, don’t you think?” the man said, but he finally let go, his curiosity apparently satisfied. “Cut me some slack here, this is kinda the first time I’ve seen one of your kind, y’know? Can’t blame me for being curious.”

Motonari sat up and turned around, glaring at the white-haired man.

“That is simply no excuse for such reprehensible behaviour! It is my first time seeing one of your kind as well, but did I decide that was justification enough to put my hands all over your... your...”

Motonari trailed off, helplessly gesturing towards the human’s lap.

The human frowned, staring down at his groin in confusion for a second. Then understanding visibly dawned on him and he turned his attention to the merman again: “My legs, you mean?”

After Motonari had confirmed his guess with a sharp nod, the human laughed and stretched said legs out towards the brunet. “Well, get even then. Touch all you want. I promise I won’t complain,” he said, grinning like a fool and waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

There was raucous laughter from the crew and even a playful catcall or two. Motonari, on the other hand, failed to be impressed by their leader’s bantering and threw him a cold look.

“I’d rather chop off my hands,” he said icily.

The words did not have their intended effect on the human. He merely continued to grin roguishly and shrugged. “Suit yourself, then. But I’ll have you know it’s a lifetime opportunity.” He wiggled a foot in Motonari’s direction. “You sure you don’t wanna change your mind?”

Motonari’s face twisted up in a grimace of disgust. He didn’t even honour that question with a reply - the look on his face said it all.

The human laughed again - the sound of it was beginning to really grate on Motonari’s already frazzled nerves - and said: “Man, you really need to loosen up. It’s just a joke.”

“It appears your special brand of _humour_ fails to amuse me, then,” Motonari said with contempt clear in his tone.

He was still shaken from earlier - he detested being touched even in a casual manner, and the way that _human_ had touched him... Such intimacy was reserved for lovers exclusively among the merfolk.

It turned Motonari’s stomach to think that anyone had touched him like that, let alone such a foul beast as this man.

The human shrugged again, lips twisting up into a somewhat crooked smile. “Fair enough.” Then he leaned forward, extending a hand in greeting towards Motonari. “How about we start over, then? Allow me to introduce myself. The name is Captain Chosokabe Motochika, White Sea Devil of the West and proud owner of this here vessel. I call her the Rising Sun. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Motonari stared at the offered hand as if it were diseased until this so-called ‘Captain’ huffed in exasperation and let it drop back down to his lap. Only then did he bring his gaze to the man’s face, studying his features once more and mentally connecting them to his name.

Chosokabe Motochika.

With all that had happened today, he doubted he would ever forget that name - whether he wanted to or not.

Without giving his name in return, Motonari allowed his eyes for the first time to properly take in what he could see of the ship he had ended up on. It was massive, much larger than he had always pictured human ships to be. There was a strange metal and wooden contraption the purpose of which he could not discern mounted to the front - a long... tube, of sorts.

There were other objects on the ship that he could not help but be curious about. What were their names, and what did humans use them for? He was curious about their strange clothing, too. What did they eat? What was it like to walk on two legs the way they did? What was fire, and why did it burn?

The same childish excitement and curiosity that had driven Motonari to break the surface so recklessly in the first place returned to him, but he did his very best to appear unimpressed and bored beyond belief.

“I suppose there is no accounting for taste...” he finally concluded his inspection of his surroundings, expertly hiding his budding interest.

Motochika snorted. “You stubborn, prickly bastard,” he said and strangely enough, Motonari had the feeling the human had just seen right through his facade.

Impossible, of course.

Mori Motonari was an expert at hiding his true feelings on any given matter, after all. Only the most perceptive of people could even hope to guess at his true intentions, and this mangy, uncultured _human_ certainly did not belong to that rare breed.

Shaking his head, Motochika got up and turned to his crew. “Alright, men. Gather up the fish we caught and store it. I’ll be having another chat with our little mermaid here.”

“Funny lookin’ mermaid, if ye ask me,” one of the men commented as he went to follow the captain’s orders.

Motonari bristled. “Do you not have eyes in that empty head of yours?! Clearly I am of the male persuasion!” He raised his tail, flicking his fins back and forth. “Have you not seen my fins? _Clearly_ they have the male shape! So _clearly_ the correct term would be _merman_.”

For his outburst, he only earned disbelieving stares, several raised eyebrows and a couple of snickers.

One man with a prominent beard put rather crude words to what they were all thinking: “Yeah, I dunno ‘bout that... mostly it’s obvious ‘cause you got no tits. Man, what a disappointment...”

Before Motonari had the chance to grow even more offended, Motochika decided to step in.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

He hoisted Motonari up as if the merman weighed absolutely nothing and slung him over his shoulder. His hand was so large that the brunet felt it was easily covering the entirety of the small of his back. Motonari felt damnably tiny and helpless. Granted, not as small as he felt next to the giant that was King Hideyoshi, but at least the King never _touched_ him.

“Put me down this instant!”

Of course, Motochika decided to ignore Motonari’s protests - it was quickly becoming a habit, it appeared - and addressed his crew one last time before carrying the struggling merman off into the belly of the beast.

“I’ll be in my cabin if you need me.”

x--x--x 

A few minutes later, Motonari found himself sitting alone in the captain’s private quarters.

Said captain of questionable competence had pretty much dumped him there and told him to wait for his return. Then he had proceeded to lock the door with a key he carried on his belt - a wasted effort, if you asked Motonari. Without legs, his mobility on land was greatly restricted. All he could do was crawl, dragging himself forward inch by painful inch.

His pride would not let him resort to that. Not yet.

As he waited for the return of his captor, Motonari passed the time by intently studying his surroundings. Much as he disliked Motochika and that horrendous crew of his, in the privacy of his own mind he could admit that his long-forgotten fascination for mankind had been reawakened by today’s events.

Some of the objects he saw in Motochika’s quarters were things he was vaguely familiar with from the scrolls he had read as a child.

There was an anchor, large but not as large as the ones he was used to seeing at the bottom of the sea. Then there was a chest up against one wall, so full of different coins that its contents were spilling out over the side and onto the ground. A silver goblet here, a chandelier and candles there, books and scrolls and what looked like construction plans littered everywhere.

Weapons, too, of all shapes and sizes.

Then there were the things he did not recognize and could not even begin to guess what they were used for. In the corner, a net of sorts had been put up, spanning from one wall to the other. Motonari did not understand its purpose there - surely there were no fish to catch in this cabin? Then there were all the strange metal odds and ends he could see here and there. They looked like they might be tools of some kind or another, but Motonari could not put a name to them.

Surprisingly enough, Motonari found that it was not just the interesting things mankind had to offer that fascinated him about life on the surface. No, it was also the very sensation of being above water that fascinated him.

It was so much warmer here and there was no current to fight against, tugging and pulling almost constantly on his body. It was much brighter, too, making everything look sharper, more defined - more colourful.

The feeling of air filling his lungs instead of water was foreign, but not entirely unpleasant. In fact, Motonari rather enjoyed the sensation of drawing breath. Inhaling and exhaling, his chest rising and falling gently with the movement...

A breeze came through the open window, carrying with it the smell of salt and sea. Motonari closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savouring the way that scent mingled pleasantly with the spicy, exotic aroma of Motochika’s quarters.

Motonari’s eyes fluttered open once more, the beginning of a pleased smile tugging at his lips - a rare occurrence indeed. Next, his gaze fell on the open window at the back of the room, allowing the rays of the sun to cast their golden light beautifully onto the wooden floor.

Ah yes, the sun...

That glorious, magnificent sun...

Above all else, this was what Motonari loved best about being on the surface.

He knew he needed to find a way to return to his home at the bottom of the ocean as quickly as possible, but part of him was hesitant to do so. How was he supposed to just... leave and forget all about such perfection? To live with never laying eyes on such brilliance ever again?

To never again feel that welcoming, nurturing warmth on his skin...?

Unthinkable.

And yet, it was unavoidable.

He sighed, ready to avert his gaze and resign himself to his fate when the strangest creature he had ever seen came barreling through the window with a noisy squawk. Motonari jumped, eyes widening in alarm as the creature charged right at him before making a sharp turn and landing somewhat clumsily on the table in front of him.

It stared at him with beady little eyes, shifting its weight and tilting its head curiously from side to side. Fascinated now that the initial surprise had worn off, Motonari mirrored the tilt of its head and began studying the foreign creature.

It had the strangest... scales, he supposed, that he had ever seen. They were bright and colourful, fanning out and looking oddly soft to the touch. Perhaps they were not scales at all... was it the creature’s hair, then? But hair in such a vivid green and yellow, and growing all over the being’s body...? No, that couldn’t be it.

The creature clicked its tongue at him expectantly and made another loud squawking noise, flapping its... arms, perhaps? The movement made part of its not-quite hair remove itself from its body, gently floating onto the table. It appeared to be growing impatient, but Motonari did not understand why.

He had heard stories of beings called seagulls that were capable of soaring through the air... was he dealing with a seagull here, then? He had never seen one before and didn’t quite know what they looked like exactly, so he could only guess.

Finally fed up, the exotic creature produced another one of those strange little squawking noises and resolutely hopped up onto Motonari’s shoulder. Motonari, of course, was not very happy at all with this particular development and he quickly tried to shake the assumed seagull off.

“Remove yourself from my person immediately, you foul beast!”

But the creature apparently was either incapable of understanding speech or it felt far too comfortable on the merman’s shoulder, because all it did was click its tongue at him happily and dig its claws into his flesh sharply to keep itself in place on its perch.

Motonari bit down on a cry of pain and stopped attempting to dislodge the seagull when it broke his skin. For a terrible second, fear that a shark might be attracted by the smell of his blood lanced through him. But then he remembered that he was on a human ship, safely out of harm’s way of any aquatic creatures.

Meanwhile, the creature had decided that tugging at Motonari’s hair was a brilliant idea. Motonari scowled, reaching up to push the annoying pest away but it still wouldn’t budge. The only thing he got for his troubles was the confirmation that its scales or hair or whatever it was that covered its body were indeed rather soft to the touch.

It was then that Motochika returned with expert timing. The human took one look at the scene before him and burst out laughing. Motonari glared at him hotly over the shoulder that was not currently held hostage by a terrible monster with sharp claws and a worrying fetish for his hair. He very much did not share the man’s amusement.

“I fail to see what is so funny!”

Still chuckling, Motochika walked further into the room and set down a heavy seeming barrel of unknown contents he had brought with him. “Trust me, if you could see yourself right now, you’d understand.”

Motonari glowered, once again trying to push the creature away. But to no avail - it was still persistently plucking at his hair and making smug, happy little noises.

“So I see you’ve already made Kiromaru’s acquaintance. Good, good.”

“You own this pest? Then get that horrible seagull off of me and tell me what in Poseidon’s name it is _doing_ to my hair!”

Motochika snorted and failed to come to Motonari’s rescue. Instead he crossed his arms over a broad chest and watched the proceedings in amusement. Motonari hated to think what he looked like right now with this _monster_ perched on his shoulder, making an utter mess of his hair.

“ _Do_ something, you oaf! Don’t just gape and stand there!”

The human shook his head and finally approached the distraught merman, deftly plucking the offending seagull from his poor, abused shoulder. The bird climbed onto the human’s own shoulder with a squawk and began tugging at his hair instead.

“First off, you do realize you had that one coming, right?” Motochika said, grinning and stroking his pet. “He was just preening you. That means he likes you, though I fear his affections appear to be rather one-sided... And just so you know, Kiromaru’s a parrot, not a seagull. What do they even teach you in mermaid school?”

Motonari stopped running his fingers through his hair to try and undo the tangles that this ‘parrot’ had caused with his ‘preening’. He gave Motochika a superior look and said: “I’ll have you know that I had a private tutor. The very best money could buy, in fact. And how many times must I tell you that I am a merman, not a--”

Motochika didn’t let him finish, making a sound of understanding and stroking a beard that wasn’t there in mock thoughtfulness. “Ah, so you were home-schooled... Well now, that certainly explains quite a number of things!”

“And what, pray tell, do you intend to insinuate by that?”

“Yeah, that’s one of those things right there,” Motochika said, playfully tapping Motonari’s nose. He nearly got his finger taken off for his troubles. “That pompous, tight-assed way you speak. All prim and proper and superior. Upper class, huh? What, don’t tell me the King’s youngest little princess got herself all tangled up in our net!”

Motonari grit his teeth, his eyes flashing in anger. He could not say what it was about this insolent human that riled him up so much. Usually, he was so calm and collected... what had happened to that icy attitude of his? Had the heat of the sun melted it or was it the heat of this man’s presence that was to be held responsible?

“Your mindless ramblings are beginning to annoy me.”

A cheeky grin was his response.

“Good! I’d be disappointed if you were just as unaffected as you like to pretend you are. Getting a rise out of Daddy’s little girl is sort of the point here, after all.”

“For the last time, _I am not a_ \--”

But once again, Motochika cut him off, this time with a laugh and a dismissive wave of his hand. “A mermaid, yeah, I got that loud and clear. Manly fins and all that. But man, you _really_ need to learn how to take a joke.”

Motonari sniffed and turned his nose up. “Such simple-minded, plebeian digs at my appearance can hardly be thought of as _humourous_. Only a simpleton such as yourself would find enjoyment in _jokes_ of such low caliber and so little class.”

A strange, teasing glint entered Motochika’s single visible eye and his smile turned positively wicked. He appeared to be regretfully unaffected by Motonari’s insults and seemed to be more amused than anything, which simply wasn’t fair considering how worked up Motonari had gotten over essentially _nothing._ So very unlike him.

“So, tell me,” Motochika spoke, and the tone he used had Motonari’s eyes narrow instinctively. “Would you like help removing that stick lodged up your ass or will you be alright on your own?”

For a moment or two, all Motonari could do was stare, not quite comprehending what he had just heard.

“I beg your _pardon?_ ” he said when he finally managed to make his tongue work once more. “There is no--”

Motochika’s grin gained a devilish edge as he casually shrugged one shoulder. “Fine, leave it inserted then,” he said as he turned away and walked back to the door - but not without throwing another cheeky comment over his shoulder. “You do seem like the type to enjoy that.”

Naturally, Motonari was appalled.

He was not entirely sure what exactly the silver-haired man was driving at - humans had strange and quite painful sounding customs, it appeared - but going by his tone combined with the filthy look on his face, Motonari could more or less piece things together. He was a genius after all, and you certainly didn’t need to be one to realize that a dirty joke had been made at your expense.

“The _nerve_ of that man,” Motonari muttered under his breath, glaring daggers at Motochika’s back. In fact, he was glaring so heatedly that he didn’t even need to understand what fire was to know that by all means, the heat of his gaze alone should have been enough to make Motochika spontaneously burst into flames.

But the irritating human remained regretfully unharmed, allowing him to pick up the large barrel he had set down by the door earlier. He carried it towards Motonari now, putting it down next to him. A bit of water sloshed over its edge as it was set down, solving the mystery of its contents.

Arching an elegant eyebrow, Motonari eyed the barrel critically before sending an unimpressed look Motochika’s way.

“What is this? Another attempt to insult me? Do you really intend to keep me in that barrel as some sort of _pet fish_?”

Those words made another one of those annoyingly pleasant laughs tumble from deep within Motochika’s throat. Much to Motonari’s indignation, he then proceeded to pat the merman’s head as you would when dealing with a child. Offended, Motonari took a swipe at him with his tail but missed.

“Nothing of the sort, my friend, but that’s not a bad idea at all... Though I reckon you’re rather high maintenance, as far as pets go,” the human joked as he simply went ahead and picked Motonari up again without bothering to ask for permission. “No, I merely thought that as a creature of the sea you’d be more comfortable like this while we talk. You appear to be breathing just fine, but I’ve seen what happens to stranded fish - can’t have that happen to my favourite little mermaid, can we?”

And with that, he unceremoniously dumped Motonari, cutting off any protests that Motonari may have uttered about once again being referred to as a mermaid.

He crashed into the water, plenty of the cool liquid spilling onto the floor as it was displaced by his body mass. By all means, Motonari should have been offended at being treated with such little respect, but when he opened his mouth to complain, all that came out was a pleased little sigh.

Only now that his lower half was properly submerged in water once more did he realize how parched and uncomfortably dry it had gotten.

“Better?” Motochika teased and Motonari found himself nodding in bliss before he realized what he was doing. He wiped all traces of contentment from his face and glared at the white-haired man.

“Would it have killed you to--”

“Cap’n!”

The door burst open, revealing a member of Motochika’s crew. Despite his sun-tanned skin, he was looking rather white-faced. Something had obviously gone dreadfully wrong, to so thoroughly unsettle one of the roughnecks that the human’s crew was comprised of.

“Speak up, mate - what is the matter?” Motochika asked firmly, going from playful and relaxed to alert and serious in the span of barely a second.

“The King’s fleet... on the horizon... heading straight for us!” the other human gasped, clearly out of breath. “East and west... bastards got us surrounded!”

The cogs were turning quickly in Motochika’s mind, and after a brief glance at a large map pinned to one side of his cabin, he said: “Then we’ll be heading south. Let the men know. Have them hoist the sails and lift the anchor - I’ll be there in a second.”

The man nodded and hastily did as he was told. Only when the door had fallen shut behind him once more did Motochika allow his calm facade to crack slightly. He cursed rather colourfully - so colourfully in fact that Motonari did not even recognize half of the words he had used. For a short moment, his face twisted itself up into an ugly grimace of rage with an underlying hint of fear.

Then Motochika composed himself again and flashed Motonari a confident grin. Much as he disliked the man, Motonari had to commend him for his ability to keep calm and appear in control in front of his men - an important quality for a leader, be they a general or a captain.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone our little talk for just a bit longer,” Motochika said. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you even know it.”

And with that, he was gone.


	3. Ship to Ship Combat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Aboard the Rising Sun, Motonari unwillingly makes the acquaintance of Motochika and his crew. To Motonari’s chagrin, much teasing ensues. Before their conversation has a chance to get serious, they’re interrupted by news of the King’s fleet on the horizon... heading straight for them.

A sense of urgency had taken the Rising Sun and its crew by storm.

In a flurry of activity, the men had lifted the anchor and hoisted the sails. They worked together like a well oiled machine with familiarity bred from countless months spent together at sea. There had been many a close call during that time but despite the odds being stacked against them, they had always escaped with their hides intact and their heads still on their shoulders.

Motochika would make damn sure that this time would be no different.

The King’s fleet was catching up to them quickly. It was comprised of relatively small ships, quick and easy to manoeuvre. The Rising Sun, on the other hand, was rather large and imposing. Sturdy and powerful, it was made to endure even the foulest of weather and the harshest of combat - it was not made to race.

They would be cutting it close this time, Motochika was painfully aware of that. If the fleet had not split up and approached them from two sides, they would have been able to escape without too much trouble. But like this, their only option was to try and evade their pursuers until the sun set and then hope to slip away unnoticed under the cover of night.

The man up on the crow’s nest monitoring the progress of their pursuers with his telescope suddenly cursed loudly.

“Cap’n, it’s the Saika Faction!”

It was Motochika’s turn to curse, if only internally. The Saika Faction was a renowned group of mercenaries known for their remarkable skills and firepower. For the right price and with the right approach, anyone could hire their services but in recent years, the Saika Faction had started forming pacts with the King almost exclusively.

Motochika’s gaze flew to the horizon, eye squinting as he tried to make out the symbol on the flag that had been hoisted underneath the King’s large banner. And sure enough, there it was - the three-legged crow that signaled the Saika Faction’s involvement.

A murmur went through the crew, the burly men covertly exchanging worried glances. The stench of their anxiety was strong in the air, shoulders tense and jaws tight. They were scared, and that simply wouldn’t do - fear lead to mistakes; mistakes they couldn’t afford right now.

“How’d those dogs catch up t’ us so smartly anyway?” one man asked.

“Some rat musta caught sight o’ us when we were stockin’ up on grub at Noshima,” another answered.

“Then how’d they know t’ surround us like that? We coulda sailed any number o’ places!”

“Some filthy cur must’ve ratted us out, I’m sure o’ it.”

Gripping the wheel tightly, Motochika yelled: “Stay calm, men! There is nothing to fear! We’ve evaded them plenty of times before - and we shall do so again! Always remember, we have faced much greater peril than this and yet we still sail the high seas freely, do we not? There is nothing that can stop the White Sea Devil of the West and his crew! Nothing at all!”

“Aye, Cap’n!” the men chorused as one.

“Come what may, we are well prepared to handle it all! Neither squall nor cloud shall hinder us, and if the raging sea itself cannot conquer us, then why should we quiver at the thought of the Saika Faction? They are but men and we are mighty demons!”

“Aye, Cap’n!” the crew chorused once more, having visibly regained their confidence and composure at their captain’s words.

“Good! Now quit yer bellyaching and get to work!”

“Aye aye, Cap’n!”

x--x--x

Motochika’s sudden departure had given Motonari time to cool his temper - and also plenty of time to think.

And without any annoyances around to distract him and no immediate threats demanding his attention, Motonari had come to a couple of key conclusions.

First off and most obvious of all, he had ended up on a pirate ship.

The crew’s rough appearance and uncultured manner of speech had already made the merman suspect as much, but recent events had given him all the confirmation he needed to be sure of his assumption. Why else would they react in such a panicked manner to the presence of their King’s fleet? Clearly they were criminals and if not outright pirates, then at least they were corrupt in some way.

Secondly, it was quite possible that a spy had been planted among the crew.

From what little Motonari had heard, it appeared the King’s fleet had split into two parts, one approaching from the east and the other approaching from the west. It seemed difficult to believe that such a coordinated attack was the product of mere chance - no, Motonari firmly believed that someone must have tipped the King off about the Rising Sun’s location.

Thirdly, Motochika and his crew had to be relatively high on the King’s hit list if he had decided to send an entire fleet after them - even taking the time to come at them from two sides so carefully and perhaps even going to the trouble of planting a spy amongst them.

And that in turn either meant this so-called ‘White Sea Devil of the West’ was an especially dreadful pirate or it meant there was some other reason Motochika’s crew in particular was being targeted.

As infuriating as he found the white-haired man to be, Motonari doubted it was the former. Motochika seemed too... friendly, he supposed, to perform acts reprehensible enough to warrant such an extensive manhunt. No, chances were there was more to this than met the eye.

Perhaps it was about the ship? Motonari was no expert on human ships by any means, but even with his limited knowledge he could tell that the Rising Sun was rather extraordinary. Perhaps Motochika had made the mistake of stealing a valuable artifact belonging to the King? Or perhaps it had been the virtue of the King’s daughter that he had stolen, besmirching her honour and leaving her with child?

The possibilities were sheer endless and without more detailed information, Motonari would be unable to narrow it down.

Which was just as well, because Motonari truly could not care less about any of it.

The fate of Motochika and his crew was none of his concern, after all. Why should he care whether any of them lived or died? What difference did it make to him? His main priority was returning to the castle as quickly as possible, anything else was meaningless.

It was thinking along this vein that made Motonari realize that perhaps he should not be so apathetic to the fate of the Rising Sun after all.

If the King’s fleet managed to catch up to Motochika’s crew, then the best case scenario for Motonari was that they would sink the Rising Sun, setting him free in the process. The worst case scenario entailed Motochika’s crew being taken captive, leading to Motonari being discovered by the King’s men.

And that was a fate Motonari knew he had to avoid at all costs. If Motochika and his crew’s reaction to seeing a real and live merman was anything to go by, humans in general appeared to be quite taken with the merfolk. Motonari could only guess what a man with the resources of a King would do to him - lock him up in his castle for further study at the very least, and perhaps worse.

Escaping from a castle would be so much more difficult than escaping from a ship. Finding his way home would most likely be near impossible as well if he were to be abducted by the King’s men and taken to his residence.

Looking at things from this perspective, Motonari now realized that it was of great importance to his continued well-being that the Rising Sun and its crew emerged victorious from this confrontation. He’d be left dealing with Motochika, but with Motochika at least there were less unknown variables.

Better the devil you know than the one you don’t.

“Hard to starboard, men!”

Speaking of devils...

Motonari turned his gaze to the window. It was still open, allowing Motochika’s voice to drift in occasionally, shouting a command or two that for the most part Motonari was not familiar with.

His gaze turned contemplative as he considered his options, still eyeing the window. The thought of passively waiting for the outcome of this confrontation didn’t sit well with the merman at all. There was too much risk involved, and ever since the end of the Great War, he had spent far too much time sitting idly by, waiting.

Motonari no longer wanted to wait. He wanted to _act_.

Deciding that even better than dealing with a devil you knew was dealing with no devil at all, Motonari put his hands on the edge of the barrel he had been left in and propped himself up. With a bit of effort, he managed to pull himself over the edge, even if a bit clumsily. Unused to moving about on land, the merman didn’t know how to properly break his fall and hit the ground hard.

Groaning and gingerly rubbing the hip he had landed on, Motonari wondered how humans could stand to live like this. Swimming was so much easier. His wrist was throbbing painfully, too - he had tried to catch himself, which had turned out to be a bad idea.

Unwilling to give up so quickly, the merman grit his teeth and began the long, slow journey to the window. Awkwardly dragging himself forward, he fought for purchase on the wooden floor by digging his fingernails into the small gaps between the boards. The wood was rough and uneven and he hissed when a sizeable splinter wedged itself into his tail.

And still he continued on, ignoring all these inconsequential little aches and pains. He was determined to make it to the window, come what may. And bit by bit, he got ever closer to his goal until he had almost reached it.

_Just a little more... just a little bit more..._

Suddenly, there was a splash and the ship lurched to the side. Motonari cursed, digging his fingers deeper into the wood to keep himself rooted in place. One of his fingernails broke but he didn’t even notice, too distracted by the sounds of combat roaring in his ears.

Men were shouting in alarm, and there were more splashes accompanied by ear-shattering, echoing noises that sounded like thunder to Motonari’s ears. It all added up to a frantic cacophony, Motochika’s voice ringing out clearly above it all, calmly but firmly giving orders to his men.

He would rather bite off his own tongue than admit it, but Motonari was frightened.

Driven on by that fear, the merman redoubled his efforts to reach the window, the sun still shining through it looking like salvation to him. He scrambled forward desperately, getting more splinters embedded in his flesh and giving himself abrasions in places.

A particularly close sounding splash resulted in the ship rocking to the side again, this time more sharply. Motonari lost his grip and was tossed against the wall, the force of the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.

He had barely recovered when the next wave hit, strong enough to send everything that wasn’t bolted down flying. The barrel fell over, water sloshing everywhere, and all the interesting odds and ends that Motonari had admired earlier clattered to the floor or smashed against the wall.

Several of these objects came flying in Motonari’s direction, hitting him in the shoulder and chest. With a gasp, he brought his arms up to try and protect his head from the incoming barrage - but he was too late. Something heavy hit him in the head, making pain explode across his temple.

And then everything went dark.

x--x--x

Another cannon ball went sailing past the Rising Sun, missing the ship far more narrowly than Motochika would have liked.

The King’s fleet had caught up with them more quickly than expected and from then on, their situation had drastically worsened. Now they were locked in ship to ship combat with a large number of attackers, something that Motochika had wanted to avoid at all costs.

But there was no time to dwell on could have beens and might have beens, no time for regrets and guilt. That could come later. What they needed to focus on right now was getting out of this alive and relatively unscathed.

A large wave shook the Rising Sun as if the massive ship were nothing but a tiny nutshell tossed about by a storm. Motochika’s grip on the wheel tightened and he ground his teeth against one another with effort, refusing to let his ship spiral out of control. If that should happen... it would be their death sentence.

“Men! We have no choice! Prepare the main cannon!” he yelled over the ruckus of another enemy cannon ball hitting the water next to them. “Toss all unnecessary dead weight over board! We’re gonna cut a swath right through them!”

His crew obeyed, but even with his attention focused on keeping their ship on course Motochika could tell that they were nervous about his decision. The large cannon mounted to the front of the Rising Sun was still a prototype - they hadn’t quite finished testing it yet. Any number of things could go wrong, the consequences ranging from bad to catastrophically bad.

Motochika was very well aware that it was a risky move, not only because of the cannon’s possible instability but also because they would have to get rather close to their attackers if they wanted to cut right through them. However, he also knew that the longer they let this drag on the higher the chances became that their luck would run out.

They needed to act, and they needed to act now.

Motochika continued giving out orders when necessary and in a manner of minutes, the crew had prepared the main cannon for discharge. There was an anxious thrumming in the air, the crew’s nervousness palpable. Motochika could not deny that anxiety was gnawing at him as well - the sweat running down the back of his neck was physical proof of that.

“Alright, men - it’s all or nothing! Are you ready?”

“Aye, Cap’n!”

“Then let’s teach these mangy, flea-bitten dogs not to mess with the infamous Devils of the Western Sea!”

“Aye, Cap’n!”

With a wild grin and a dangerous glint in his golden eye, Motochika raised his voice even further and shouted: “Let’s give ‘em hell! Charge the cannon...”

A whirring noise filled the air, the cannon’s muzzle beginning to glow an ominous red as it gathered energy. The enemy ships were too far away for him to make out any details, but Motochika imagined that he could practically _see_ their crews getting nervous, running to and fro like panicked ants.

“Take aim...”

With a series of mechanical clicks and clacks, the angle of the muzzle was adjusted for maximum accuracy and power.

“And _fire_!”

With a thunderous boom, the main cannon was discharged. It was powerful enough that the force of it pushed the Rising Sun back a little in the opposite direction.

Motochika held his breath and only released it when the shot connected directly with one of the King’s ships, blowing a large hole into its hull. With damage that extensive, there was no doubt that it would sink in a manner of minutes.

“Excellent, men! Now let’s do that again!”

Another direct hit was made, and then another one. A wave of exhilaration went through Motochika. The cannon he had designed and built with the help of his men was working just as intended. Its fire power was phenomenal - the King’s fleet didn’t even know what hit them. Motochika’s crew was _beating them_.

“They’re withdrawing! _They’re withdrawing!_ ” somebody yelled, elation in his tone.

Sure enough, their attackers were beginning to bring their ships about, ready to put some distance between themselves and the hulking mass of the Rising Sun. It was the opportunity Motochika had been waiting for and with the taste of victory already on his tongue, he sailed his ship right past the fleeing enemy.

“That oughta teach you, you damn landlubbers!” he taunted with glee.

“Cap’n, _look out_!”

Motochika turned to find that the withdrawing fleet had sent one last parting gift their way. A cannon ball, heading straight for the Rising Sun on direct collision course. Motochika cursed. They had gained some extra speed from getting rid of all that unnecessary ballast, but would it be enough?

Time slowed down to a crawl. The yells of his crew scrambling for something to hold onto sounded oddly muted to Motochika’s ears. Everything in his periphery field of vision appeared dull and grey, his attention focused solely on that big metal ball, sailing towards them with terrible inevitability.

Time sped up again.

x--x--x

When Motonari came to, his head was killing him and his vision was blurry.

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to fight down the queasy feeling in his stomach. One shaking hand came up to weakly inspect the area where his head had been struck. Hissing in pain, Motonari snatched his fingers away from the sizeable lump he found there.

How much time had passed while he had been out cold? He couldn’t tell.

Forcing his eyes open once more, Motonari began the painful process of picking himself up from the ground. His sight was still swimming nauseatingly but he would just have to deal with that. The merman sat up, knocking a book that had come to rest on his chest to the floor. His gaze wandered to the window. It was still open and the sounds of battle drifted through it.

He could still make it.

Steeling himself and gritting his teeth, Motonari resumed his earlier journey to freedom. He covered ground slowly, wincing the entire way. Finally, his persistence paid off and he reached the window. Sitting up, Motonari grabbed hold of the ledge. Hope filled him with fresh energy as he quickly pulled himself up on the ledge with strength he hadn’t known he possessed.

One glance down, and his hope was brutally crushed.

Instead of the welcoming water of the sea, only hard wood would greet Motonari if he were to leap down from here. The drop was high, and if falling from that barrel had already been so painful, Motonari could only guess what sort of injuries he would sustain if he were to throw caution to the wind and risk this jump.

Even if he hit the ground with minor injuries only, he would still need to somehow make it all the way to the railing and over it without discovery. The battle provided a great distraction of course, keeping crew and captain busy, but it was still too risky a move.

After all the effort he had put into getting this far, he was still stuck.

Discouraged, Motonari had been about to lower himself back down from the ledge when movement to his right caught his attention. He turned his head, eyes going wide as he spotted a giant metal ball sailing straight towards him at what appeared to be impossible speed.

The merman barely had the time to process what was happening before the ball’s trajectory began curving downwards, making it crash into the water barely a hair’s breadth away from the stern of the Rising Sun.

Motonari wanted to heave a sigh of relief, but that was when the mighty wave caused by the metal ball’s impact hit the ship with full force. It shook, temporarily tossed around by the water. Motonari cried out and tried to hold onto the window’s frame, hands gripping the wood tight enough to make his knuckles go white.

Dark spots danced in front of his eyes, and a wave of dizziness overcame him at the worst possible moment.

Motonari fell.

x--x--x

A chorus of cheers went through the air when the last shot narrowly missed the Rising Sun.

“We made it! Cap’n, we made it!” the man up on the crow’s nest yelled, confirming what Motochika had already guessed: they were out of firing range now, and once again free to go wherever they pleased. The sky was the limit.

The men were slapping each other’s backs and shook hands, some even exchanging manly one-armed hugs. Motochika looked on with pride, knowing that they had accomplished a great feat today, once more proving that his crew was the very best to ever sail the seven seas.

“Rum for all!” Motochika shouted, prompting another round of cheers. “Have the cooks prepare a fine feast for us!” Again, his words were met with much cheering. Motochika felt that after a day like this, the crew more than deserved it - they had every reason to celebrate, after all.

The gods were smiling upon them.

x--x--x

A certain merman was not feeling quite so lucky at the moment.

Motonari could not say how he had managed to accomplish such a feat, but when he had fallen, one of his hands had found the ledge at the very last second. His grip had been fueled by the strength of desperation and hadn’t loosened even when his momentum made Motonari’s body slam into the wall underneath the window.

Now he was dangling there in empty air, holding on for dear life.

He was unused to having to hold up his entire weight - he felt so much lighter suspended in water - and his arm was trembling under the unfamiliar strain. It hurt, but he knew that he couldn’t let go. His teeth were digging into his bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed, the slight pain a welcome distraction from the far greater pain in his shoulder.

Finding footing was impossible when instead of two legs all you had was the tail of a fish and that accursed seagull - parrot, whatever - wasn’t making the task of holding on any easier, squawking and circling around him like that.

Slowly but surely, Motonari’s strength was beginning to give out.

He was slipping.

Pale lips parted silently, brown eyes going wide as he watched his fingers slowly slide down. All the blood drained from his face, leaving him looking rather white and sickly. Motonari even forgot to breathe, frozen in horror as he was.

It was the longest second of his life.

The barest of moments before he lost his hold, Motonari gathered up the last of his remaining strength and with considerable effort, brought his other hand up to grip the ledge as well. His muscles were screaming at him and a trickle of blood traveled down the curve of his abused lip as he started pulling himself up.

Finally he made it, inelegantly tumbling back into Motochika’s cabin. He collapsed right underneath the window, panting harshly and sitting with his back propped up against the wall. His vision was swimming again and his body felt heavy.

Motonari was drifting in and out of consciousness, today’s strain finally taking a toll on him.

The sun began to set.

x--x--x

He was on the verge of blacking out again when the door was thrown open.

It slammed into the wall, noisily announcing the presence of whoever it was that had come to check up on him. At once, a jolt went through Motonari’s body and he was startled to attention. Things still looked pretty blurry, but he thought he could make out at least two people - one with a purple jacket and an untameable mane of silver hair, the other with some sort of cloth wrapped around his head.

“What’d I tell you? Back before you--”

Motochika cut himself off abruptly. Motonari blinked blearily, clearing his vision enough to see the shocked look on the pirate’s face. There was a beat, then the human was kneeling at his side, none too gently patting Motonari’s cheek.

“Hey, can you hear me? Come on, say something.”

Motonari wanted to call Motochika every bad name under the sun, he really did, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a pitifully croaked: “Water...”

“Men, bring me a pitcher of water - and while you’re at it, fill up that barrel again and bring a washcloth or two,” Motochika said, then turned his attention back to Motonari. “You look like hell. Got shaken up pretty good there, huh?”

Snorting weakly, Motonari shot a half-hearted glare Motochika’s way. “How very astute... of you,” he murmured, voice dripping with derision even in the state he was currently in. His skin was crawling at the idea that anyone should see him like this, much less this sorry excuse for a pirate.

Undeterred by Motonari’s sarcasm, Motochika continued to inspect the merman’s injuries. He whistled when he carefully traced a finger over the sizeable lump on Motonari’s forehead. The brunet made a sound of discomfort and turned his face away, trying and failing to swat the annoying human away.

“Looks like you got hit in the head pretty good, too... no wonder you’re so out of it. And what’s up with those splinters? What, did you try to crawl all over the floor or something?”

Motonari remained silent, darkly glowering at a fallen silver goblet.

“You did, didn’t you?” Motochika said with a hint of anger mixed up with disappointment, finally putting two and two together and coming up with four. “You were trying to escape through the window!”

“If that surprises you... then you are a bigger fool than I thought,” Motonari managed to get out.

“Well, you’re a bigger prick than I thought!”

Antagonizing his captor was not a very good idea at all in his current state, but Motonari still had a sharp retort ready on the tip of his tongue. However, before things could get any further out of hand, the door opened again and a few men belonging to Motochika’s crew came in with the requested items.

“Where do you want t’ barrel put, Cap’n?” one man asked.

The frustration bled from Motochika’s face as he turned around to smile at his crew. “Just put it right over there... thank you.” Another man approached, handing Motochika a pitcher of water and the washcloths he had asked for.

“He goin’ t’ be a’ight?”

Motochika gave Motonari a critical once-over, then nodded. “I believe so, yes. Do me a favour and have someone send some food up later.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n.”

The men filed out of the room again, leaving merman and pirate alone once more. Motonari was still glaring, but Motochika’s ire was gone. The human chuckled and shook his head, muttering something about stubborn, distrustful bastards under his breath.

“Alright, let’s get you patched up.”

With these words, the white-haired man reached for Motonari’s tail. The merman hissed in response, but he was too weak to move the appendage out of the pirate’s reach. “ _Don’t_ \--”

Motochika put two finger against Motonari’s lips, effectively silencing him. “I know, I know - no inappropriate touching. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” A pause, then a smirk. “Well, you’re obviously not wearing any, but you know what I mean.”

Getting defensive and not quite understanding why, Motonari mustered up the strength to slap Motochika’s hand away from his mouth. “Will you quit your inane babbling? And let me go!”

“Just hold still,” Motochika shot back with a big grin and cheerfully pulled the first splinter from Motonari’s tail.

Motonari yelped and lashed out with his tail, nearly managing to hit Motochika in the chin if it hadn’t been for the pirate’s quick reflexes. Motonari narrowed his eyes into thin slits and damn near pouted. He said: “Does the word _gentle_ not hold any meaning to you _,_ you barbaric oaf?”

Plucking another splinter from Motonari’s flesh, Motochika said: “Are all merpeople this wimpy and whiny or are you just a special case?”

Biting down on another embarrassing yelp, Motonari threw a weak punch against the human’s shoulder. Motochika apparently barely felt it and didn’t even budge; he only laughed.

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll be _gentle,_ ” he said, grinning wolfishly in a way that had Motonari’s brows draw together in a frown and his ears grow hot.

“Idiot,” he muttered tiredly, but he was grateful nonetheless when Motochika held true to his word and removed the next piece of wood more carefully. Strong fingers accidentally brushed across the sensitive skin of Motonari’s lower belly when Motochika went for the next splinter and the merman’s breath hitched in his throat.

Hastily, he caught Motochika’s hand and pulled it away, saying: “Stop. I can... do the rest myself.”

Motochika’s lips drew up into a knowing smile but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply shrugged and got up. “Suit yourself, then.”

Motonari made quick work of the remaining splinters, deftly plucking them from his skin with gritted teeth and slightly trembling fingers. He was done by the time Motochika returned and sat in front of him, pouring some water into a goblet.

Holding the item out to Motonari, Motochika said: “You wanted some water?”

The merman eyed the offered goblet critically, then reached for the pitcher instead. It almost slipped from his hands when he raised it up, but he still managed to pour the contents all over his head and tail. The little bruises and scratches he had sustained today were nothing; it was the lack of moisture that had gotten to Motonari the most. That, and the hit to the head.

Blissfully ignoring the odd look that Motochika was giving him, Motonari closed his eyes. He tilted his head back and let out a pleased little sigh that was almost a moan, enjoying the way the water slid down his skin.

“Mmh... feels good...” he whispered breathily, having all but forgotten about the pirate’s presence.

Motochika cleared his throat a little awkwardly to get Motonari’s attention. The merman only opened his eyes about halfway, sleepily peering at the other man from beneath dark eyelashes. Exhaustion was pulling at his limbs, his aching body demanding rest. It had been a tough day for Motonari, both emotionally and physically, and now that his eyes had been shut once it was so hard to keep them open.

“Guess it’s time to get you back into that barrel, huh...” Motochika muttered. “Alright, here we go.”

With ease, Motochika picked Motonari up, one arm underneath his tail and the other supporting his shoulders. The merman’s eyes had fallen shut again but he still squirmed in Motochika’s hold, muttering something that could have well been interpreted as a protest.

Motochika chuckled and carefully deposited the tired merman in the barrel of water. It drew another pleased sigh from Motonari as he all but snuggled against the side of the container, arms resting on the edge and making a pillow for his head. He would curse himself for his behaviour later.

Motonari barely noticed when Motochika gently cleaned the bit of blood from his face. Neither did he notice when the pirate slid a folded up blanket underneath his arms - he was already too far gone, sleep dragging him deeper and deeper into oblivion.

A few scant moments later, Mori Motonari was fast asleep.


	4. Deal with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: While Motochika has his hands full fending off an attack by the Saika Faction, Motonari attempts to escape in the confusion. He fails, getting himself a little banged up in the process. Finally, the Rising Sun and its crew manage to leave the King’s fleet behind. Exhausted from the day’s events, Motonari falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plenty of bickering ahead. Prepare yourself.

He was not sure what woke him up.

Perhaps it was the sensation of a gentle breeze ghosting across his cheeks... or that unfamiliar scent in his nose... the foreign feeling of drawing breath... the lack of water surrounding his upper body. Perhaps it was the various aches and pains plaguing him, the worst of them all still the throbbing of his head.

Or maybe - just maybe - it was the sound of glass shattering noisily nearby.

Shortly after that, a heartfelt curse followed.

Motonari sat up abruptly, his eyes needing a moment to adjust to the dim light of a single candle before he was able to see anything at all. He could make out what had to be Motochika’s form crouching near the table, fussing about with something that the pirate had apparently dropped.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” Motochika said apologetically, and when he turned in Motonari’s direction, the merman was able to make out the dark stain on the floor.

Ink.

Still a little out of it, Motonari just shook his head in response. Immediately he regretted the action as a sharp shock of pain lanced through him. With a sound he liked to pretend was not a whimper, he reached for the spot that hurt the most. Blearily, he turned to Motochika again.

“How long was I--”

_Clink._

The sound of chains seemed rather out of place to Motonari in a captain’s cabin - he would have expected to hear them in a cell, perhaps, but here? With a dreadful sense of foreboding, he lowered his gaze to his wrist. And sure enough, there it was - an iron manacle, attached to a long chain with a large metal ball at the end.

Apparently Motochika didn’t need a cell to keep Motonari prisoner - all he needed were the proper tools.

Finally managing to pull himself from his stupor, Motonari whipped his hand around to glare at his captor. Fully awake now and with no trace of his usual composure, he hissed: “You _chained me up_?!”

“Looks like I did,” Motochika answered casually, sounding for all the world as if there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, even with the bad light, Motonari could still make out the curve of a grin on the infuriating pirate’s face.

“What gives you the right?!” Motonari demanded, testing the strength of his bonds while still glaring daggers that would have killed an ordinary man on the spot.

Luckily - or perhaps unluckily, from a certain merman’s perspective - Chosokabe Motochika was by no means an ordinary man and remained blessedly unharmed. He shrugged, lighting a lantern so they could see each other properly.

“Well, what can I say? You’re a once in a lifetime catch, no way am I gonna let you slip through my net,” Motochika said, shooting a winning smile Motonari’s way. Then he sobered up, his brows drawing together in a frown. “For what it’s worth, I _do_ feel sorry for doing this to you...”

Reaching the extent of his patience for annoying idiots, Motonari said: “Then open this accursed thing!”

“...but not sorry enough to let you go!” Motochika completed his earlier sentence, following the words up with a deep, obnoxious laugh that did nothing but get on Motonari’s nerves.

“You complete and utter... insufferable... intolerable... inconceivably irritating...!” Motonari began but had to trail off angrily, unable to find a word strong enough to do justice to just how distasteful he found Motochika to be right now. He valued his physical integrity greatly - as did he value his personal freedom; being treated like this was humiliating, degrading and simply unacceptable.

Motochika’s constant smiling and smirking wasn’t helping matters, either.

“...handsome devil?” Motochika suggested and chuckled when he caught sight of Motonari’s positively murderous look. “Kidding, kidding. Anyway, now that you’re up already... Might as well stay up; the sun’s gonna rise soon. Just let me clean up this mess.”

Motonari glowered silently, not even the mention of the sun enough to improve his rotten mood. He took another look at the shackle around his wrist, wondering if he could somehow pick the lock later. He had never done anything of the sort before so it likely would take him quite some time to figure out the proper mechanics, but if the Great War had taught him anything it was that patience was key.

Deciding fiddling with the lock was something that would have to wait until later, the merman turned his attention back to Motochika. The white-haired man had crouched back down to clean up the ink he had spilled. Motonari snorted and took a look around the rest of the room, noticing that everything had been put back into order. Motochika had been busy while he had been sleeping.

While he had been _sleeping_.

Motonari still could not believe that he had actually been foolish enough to lower his guard so thoroughly in enemy territory. Injury was no excuse for such carelessness. And look where it had gotten him - chained to a large metal ball he had no hope of moving very far on his own, if at all.

If he had been stuck before, now he was well and truly trapped with no possible way out.

The pirate finished cleaning and got up, stretching himself and letting out a satisfied groan when something in his back gave a loud pop. Motonari watched as Motochika rubbed at his eye and then shook his head as if to clear his mind. Actually, now that he looked at the man more observantly, he could see the dark shadow of fatigue underneath his one visible eye.

No way out...

Unless...

Unless he could find a way to use Motochika’s exhaustion against him. The man obviously had not gotten any sleep at all, spending the entire night getting his cabin back into some semblance of order and writing something into the book lying on his table - Motonari was surprised that oaf even _could_ write - so perhaps...

“Stop scheming; I can practically _hear_ you think,” Motochika suddenly said before turning to give Motonari a look of mock reproach. “And it’s giving me a headache.”

Motonari tensed, instinctively wiping his face clean of any expression that might be interpreted as shifty or scheming.

It was almost eerie, how the pirate had been able to guess that he was scheming against him. Had Motonari been that obvious in his plotting? He did not think so. Was Motochika just _that_ perceptive, then? Surely it couldn’t be. It had to be a fluke. Yes, a fluke sounded reasonable - or perhaps it was due to some sort of animal instinct.

“There, all done,” Motochika said and got up again.

Motonari gave the area the human had cleaned a critical look. There was still some residue of ink visible even in the dim lighting. It rubbed Motonari’s inner perfectionist all wrong to see the floor in such a state, so he couldn’t stop himself from saying: “You missed a spot.”

Motochika chuckled. “I figured you’d say that, you anal bastard.”

“Ex _cuse_ me?”

But Motochika just shot a cheeky grin Motonari’s way. “You heard me.”

Offended, Motonari said: “I insist that you refrain from addressing me in such a crude and disrespectful manner.”

“Well, what would you have me call you then? You never told me your name, you know,” Motochika said as he turned on his heel and walked towards a cabinet at the other end of the room.

Sniffing haughtily and demonstratively turning his back on the pirate - not that the human could see him right now anyway, but at least it made him feel a tiny little bit better about being so powerless in this situation - Motonari said: “My name is none of your concern, _pirate_.”

Motochika stopped rummaging through the cabinet for a moment to shoot Motonari an amused look over his shoulder. “Really? You’re _that_ stubborn? Alright, guess I’ll just have to give you a nickname then. Let’s see... What about shrimp?”

Whirling around to glare heatedly at Motochika, Motonari said: “Absolutely not!” He was very well aware that he was rather small for a man; the last thing he needed was to be constantly reminded of that fact.

“Maybe I’ll just go back to calling you little mermaid, then.”

Feeling his patience snap - again - Motonari grit his teeth before hissing out: “ _Fine!_ ” Forcefully composing himself again, he pasted a cold, superior look onto his face. “I am Mori Motonari, the Lord of Aki and an esteemed member of the royal court.”

Motochika grinned at him widely. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He got something from the cabinet and set a couple of items down on the table before speaking again. “So, can I offer the _esteemed_ Mori Motonari a drink? Rum, or maybe just some plain ol’ water?”

Motonari looked at Motochika as if the human had spontaneously grown a second head. “Do you take me for a fool? Why in Poseidon’s name would I accept either food or drink from my captor?”

Unperturbed, Motochika picked up the bottle he had put on the table and said: “Rum it is, then.” He poured some sort of liquid into two glasses, bringing one of them over to where Motonari was still trapped inside that barrel of water.

Wrinkling his nose, Motonari stared down at the offered glass in distaste, critically inspecting the mysterious liquid called ‘rum’. “I am _not_ drinking that. If you really believe--”

“Just try it,” Motochika coaxed, stepping closer and practically shoving the drink into the merman’s face. “You’ll like it - I promise!”

“I _refuse_ ,” Motonari said as he withdrew towards the opposite side of the barrel, attempting to put some distance between himself and the stubborn human.

But Motochika would not back down, gripping the edge of the barrel next to Motonari with one hand to support his weight as he leant towards him. An uncomfortable shudder went through Motonari’s body when Motochika pressed the glass against his lips.

“Go on - drink,” Motochika said, but Motonari glared and turned his head away.

Bringing up a hand to slap the offending glass away, Motonari was irritated to find that all the pirate did was raise the drink to bring it out of his reach. He didn’t back off, still leaning far too close to Motonari for the merman’s comfort. How he _detested_ people that refused to respect his boundaries.

“Hey, hey - this is _good_ rum, you know! I won’t forgive you if you spill it,” Motochika said, the playful tone in his voice belying the reprimand in his words.

“Back _off_ , you obstinate brute!” Motonari hissed, eyes glinting with a cold kind of rage.

“Come on, Mori. You’ve _got_ to be thirsty - you haven’t had anything to drink since yesterday,” the pirate said.

The humour in his voice was gone and had been replaced by a seemingly uncharacteristic seriousness. The intense searching look he was giving Motonari made the brunet want to writhe and squirm without quite understanding _why_.

“I am not familiar with that term. The least you could do is make yourself clear if you must insist on speaking to me!”

As a merman, the concept of thirst was another thing that Motonari didn’t quite understand.

Motochika gave him a funny look until understanding visibly dawned on him. “Oh, you mean thirsty? That’s what you’re confused about? Well, it’s when your mouth and throat get all dry and you feel an intense desire to drink something. I guess you merfolk don’t need to drink...?”

“We... don’t,” Motonari said slowly even as his eyebrows knotted themselves up in a small frown.

Now that Motochika had mentioned it, there was indeed an uncomfortable dryness in his throat and mouth... His lips felt chapped, too - an entirely foreign sensation to the merman. And indeed, now that he had begun paying attention to his body’s needs, he did in fact detect a certain yearning for _something_...

Bringing up a hand to let it rest against his throat Motonari eyed the drink that Motochika had put back into his reach with renewed interest. Perhaps this feeling he was experiencing was indeed thirst... In any case, now that he had become aware of it, it was impossible to ignore.

“Changed your mind?” Motochika teased, a knowing glint in his single eye.

Motonari threw the human a look of utter contempt. But despite his glaring, he wordlessly reached for the offered glass, making painfully sure not to touch the pirate as he took the glass from him. It irked him that despite his best efforts, their fingers still brushed lightly against one another when Motochika withdrew his hand. He tried to ignore the way the contact made his stomach tie itself up in unpleasant knots.

Under the watchful golden eye of the White Sea Devil of the West, Mori Motonari took his first drink.

And promptly spit it out again.

It _burned._

Never before had he experienced anything like it before. Motonari began coughing, his eyes watering up against his will. He couldn’t get the taste of it out of his mouth and his throat felt as if he had swallowed a sea urchin. And through it all, Motochika was laughing - as if Motonari’s plight was actually _amusing_!

“What is this foul concoction?!” the merman gasped out, looking at Motochika through a haze of tears. “Is this your attempt to poison me?!”

“No, nothing of the sort,” Motochika said, having trouble getting the words out as well - except for entirely different reasons compared to Motonari. Still chuckling, he added: “Man, you should have seen your face...!”

“Why didn’t you warn me it would be this bad?!”

Motochika shook his head, lips twitching as he tried to keep further laughter down. “How was I supposed to know you were gonna try and swallow it all in one go like that?” A beat, then a snicker. “Heh, swallow it all in one go...”

Motonari just glared, very much failing to see the humour in the situation. All he knew was that he was supremely pissed and offended, as well as embarrassed - he hated losing his composure, and even more than that he hated suffering blows to his pride and dignity.

On a vindictive whim, Motonari pressed his lips into a thin line and without hesitating, emptied the contents of his glass onto the floor.

_That_ ruined Motochika’s good mood immediately.

The pirate gasped and stared at the fresh puddle of rum on the ground, then rounded on Motonari with a furious fire burning in his gaze. “Are you _insane_?! I explicitly told you not to spill it!”

“It tasted awful,” Motonari stated matter-of-factly.

“Just ‘cause you didn’t like it doesn’t mean you had to go and do that! I coulda still drank that!” Motochika complained. “I _told_ you it was the good kind of rum. That shit is expensive, you know!”

“Please, spare me your whining,” Motonari said, rolling his eyes in derision. “Do you really expect me to believe for even one second that you actually bought this? You’re a pirate. The probability that you stole this so-called ‘rum’ is staggeringly high.”

Motochika huffed, the heat of his glare not lessening in the slightest. “So what if I stole it? Doesn’t change the fact that you just wasted _perfectly good booze._ ”

Motonari looked away and turned his nose up, sniffing haughtily. “Hmph. A dirty thief, and a drunkard on top of that. As is to be expected from a lowly pirate.”

“You bastard...” Motochika growled, for once actually affected by Motonari’s insults - much to the merman’s delight, of course. “That rotten attitude of yours is startin’ to piss me off.”

“If my presence on your ship enrages you so, then perhaps it is time that you let me go,” Motonari suggested, hoping against hope that the pigheaded pirate would actually listen.

It had been the wrong thing to say.

As suddenly as the human’s anger had appeared it dissipated once more. Motochika laughed heartily, then sent a grin Motonari’s way that showed far more teeth than the merman was comfortable with.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” the pirate said, mysteriously back in good spirits. “Sorry, but I think I’ll keep you around for just a little bit longer.”

With gritted teeth, Motonari looked on as Motochika took the empty glass from him and walked back towards the table. On the way, he asked: “Still thirsty?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Motonari hissed, accusation clear in his tone.

Motochika refilled the glass and returned to the merman, holding the item out to him. “Here, try this then.”

Motonari regarded the offered drink with the utmost of suspicion. And after what he had just experienced, who could blame him? Raising his gaze to Motochika’s face, he gave the pirate a long, scrutinizing look.

Sensing his apprehension, Motochika reassuringly said: “It’s just water this time. I promise.”

“I think I’ve learned not to rely on your promises. They appear to be worth nothing,” Motonari quipped, certainly not above making a dig at Motochika’s trustworthiness like that.

Motochika frowned and appeared as if he wanted to retort, but he shut his mouth again when Motonari reached for the glass despite his protests. The brunet brought it to his face, carefully sniffing at the contents of the glass. He couldn’t detect any funny smells - perhaps the slightest hint of rum, but that was to be expected. The glass had not been washed, after all.

In fact, this so-called ‘water’ smelled like absolutely nothing - and that just couldn’t be right.

“Why does it not smell like the sea?” Motonari questioned. “Water is supposed to be salty.”

Motochika shook his head. “Not drinking water. If you drink seawater, you’ll only end up even thirstier than before. It’s not good for your body, either. So we obtain our drinking water from other sources - clean rivers, wells and the like.”

“I see,” Motonari said, curiosity beginning to rise up inside him. It appeared living on land had given mankind all sorts of challenges to overcome if they wanted to survive - different challenges than those the merfolk faced at the bottom of the ocean. He wanted to ask what a well was and how it functioned, but bit down on his questions.

It wouldn’t do to become too friendly with his captor, after all.

Forcing his misgivings aside for now, Motonari brought the glass to his lips and took a tentative sip. No foul taste assaulted his tongue, no burning sensation travelled down his throat. The water was pleasantly cool and thankfully relieved the terrible dryness in his mouth and throat. Motonari took another sip, bigger this time, and sighed contentedly afterwards.

“Toldya,” Motochika said obnoxiously, grinning like a fool.

Motonari huffed and ignored him, opting to finish his water instead. When he was done, he held the empty glass out to Motochika expectantly. “More.”

The pirate took the glass but made a disapproving clicking noise with his tongue. “More? I dunno...” His grin widened, becoming larger than should be anatomically possible. With a teasing glint in his eye, Motochika said: “What’s the magic word?”

Unwilling to play Motochika’s childish games, Motonari defiantly raised his chin and said: “More, _now._ ”

Chuckling, Motochika refilled Motonari’s glass and handed it back to him. “You’re such an impatient, spoilt brat. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to say please and thank you?”

“My mother is _dead_ ,” Motonari said, sipping at his water with fake casualness. The tense line of his shoulders and the way his fingers gripped the glass just a little too tightly gave him away.

Instead of the pity and condolences Motonari had expected and dreaded, Motochika sobered up, turned away and reached for his rum.

“Mine too,” he said, knocking back his drink in one go and pouring himself another glass.

Before the mood had the chance to grow any more sombre, Motochika sat down on one of the chairs and swiftly put his feet on the table. He grinned at his ‘catch of the day’ and said: “So. You people don’t drink, that much I already know now. But you _do_ eat, right?”

“ _Of course_ we do. What sort of foolish question is that?” Eyeing Motochika’s boots on the table with distaste, Motonari wondered if all humans had such terrible manners or if pirates were just an especially barbaric breed. “And sit down properly. That simply _cannot_ be sanitary!”

A loud laugh was Motochika’s response. The pirate slouched even more on his seat as if to demonstrate a point and said: “It’s my ship. I’ll do whatever the hell I want on my own damn ship.”

“A thief and a slob on top of that...” Motonari said superiorly. “It appears you do not possess any redeeming qualities at all.”

“Hah, at least I’m not acting like a nagging housewife!” Motochika said, still looking entirely unperturbed as he drank his rum. If anything, he appeared to be enjoying the verbal exchange.

Haughtily, Motonari added: “Rude, too.”

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Motochika retorted: “Like you’re one to talk when it comes to that one. Anyway, let’s get this conversation back on course, shall we? So, I’m curious. What _do_ you people eat? Not like there’s a lot of edible stuff at the bottom of the sea, right?”

Motonari stared at the pirate, perplexed. There were dozens of dishes he could name off the top of his head. The sea was a plentiful source of food; humans apparently just were not aware of that fact. “We enjoy a healthy, balanced diet of seafood. All manners of fish, plankton, different types of underwater plants... To keep it short, we are not lacking in nutrition in the slightest.”

“Looking at the way you’re built I kinda doubt that,” Motochika said, studying what was visible of Motonari’s slight body with a critical eye.

Getting defensive and inexplicably feeling his ears grow hot, Motonari adjusted his position so that more of his body was hidden inside the barrel. He immediately hated himself for acting so self-conscious in front of the pirate. It was true that to a certain extent, Motonari was insecure about his size - but he usually made it a point not to show that weakness to anyone.

Ever.

Rather irritated with both himself and Motochika, Motonari narrowed his eyes into a glare and pressed his lips together into a thin line. Showing anger was far easier to him than showing embarrassment.

Motochika raised an eyebrow and held one hand up in a placatory gesture. “Hey, don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it; you’re the one that got all body shy all of a sudden. Bit of a sore subject for you, is it? Got teased as a kid?”

Motonari huffed. As if he would share personal information like that with his captor - or anyone, for that matter. “Stop prattling, your nonsense is making me want to gouge my eyes out. No, wait - make that gouge out your remaining eye instead.”

Whistling, the human said: “Getting violent, huh? Figures. The small ones always fight dirty.” He propped his elbow up on the table and rested his chin in his palm. “You know, if you knew what they called _me_ as a kid, you’d feel only half as bad.” Motochika grinned broadly. “I’ll tell you if you tell me - what do you say?”

“Certainly not,” Motonari replied, holding absolutely no interest at all in learning more about that annoying pirate - the only thing he wanted to know was how to escape from this accursed ship and return to the castle, but the chances of that happening any time soon were growing slimmer and slimmer by the second.

“Fine, be all secretive and mysterious then - only makes me want to know even more. I’ll find out eventually, promise,” Motochika playfully threatened, earning himself a roll of Motonari’s brown eyes. “So. You eat fish, huh? Isn’t that like, cannibalism?” He vaguely gestured in Motonari’s general direction. “You know. You being a merman, with the tail of a fish and all.”

Motonari frowned. “How many times must I remind you that I am not a common fish before it gets through that thick skull of yours?”

Another placating gesture and as expected, a grin. “Hey, I’m just wondering here! Can’t blame a guy for being curious how merfolk morals and ethics work!”

With a scoff, Motonari said: “As if a lowly pirate such as yourself actually knows what either of those concepts entail.”

Motochika chuckled. “You wound me, you really do.” He clutched at his chest. “Right here in my poor, fragile little heart.”

“Cut the dramatics, the only thing you achieve with them is to make yourself look like a fool,” Motonari chided, thoroughly annoyed with the pirate’s antics.

“Alright, alright. How about I make myself look like a good host, then?”

The white-haired man’s winning smile had no effect at all on Motonari. If anything, it only served to stir the embers of his ire even more. “Funny, these chains had me thinking I was _being held_ _captive_ instead of _visiting_ ,” Motonari said, demonstratively pulling at his bonds to make them clink against one another loudly.

“I already said I feel bad about those, what more would you have me do?” Motochika said with a shrug before getting up and setting his glass of rum down.

“Isn’t it obvious? Release me!”

“I think I’ll feed you instead.”

“ _Feed me?!_ ”

“Exactly. I figure if you were thirsty, then you’ve got to be hungry too, right?” Motochika said, grinning at Motonari over his shoulder while he did something or other over in a corner that Motonari couldn’t quite make out.

“I am not your pet!” Motonari protested, still hung up on the idea of being _fed_ like a child or some sort of animal. His stomach rumbled loudly at the idea of food, but he ignored it easily. He had gone far longer without eating during the war.

“I’m aware - we’ve been over that one already. But if you ever change your mind... Just let me know. You can’t get much more exotic than a merman as far as pets go,” Motochika said, half joking and half completely serious about his proposition.

“That is about as likely as the great seas parting at the command of one lone man!” Motonari said grandly.

Motochika laughed at that, bringing a tray over and setting it down on the table. “Funny you should say that. According to this crazy cult that I ran into once, the sea _did_ already part. A strange bunch, really. Their leader is a foreigner and they call themselves the disciples of X--”

Motonari interrupted him, saying: “I neither see how that is relevant to the matter at hand nor do I have the patience to listen to you tell your idle tales, so spare me the details.”

“Alright, alright. Jeeze,” Motochika said, rolling his eye at Motonari’s impatience. “Bet you suck the fun right out of any party.”

“I am not the type to attend such frivolous festivities,” Motonari said and meant it. The only celebrations he ever bothered showing up for were those with mandatory attendance. Usually, he sent one of his spies to social gatherings instead so he didn’t miss out on any pertinent information.

“Yeah, no surprise there,” was Motochika’s response. The pirate ignored the dark look Motonari was giving him and returned to the merman’s side. With a grunt of effort, he lifted the barrel with Motonari still inside and began carrying it over to the table.

Gripping the sides of the barrel tightly, Motonari thought the human would buckle under the weight for sure, dropping him - but Motochika did no such thing, safely putting the barrel down next to the table. Then he went back and carried the metal ball Motonari’s chain was attached to over as well.

While Motochika took a seat again, Motonari stared at the tray before him. There was a bowl filled about halfway with small white objects that the merman had never seen before. Then there was a plate that had a... well, he supposed it had the general shape of a fish, but the colour was all wrong and the head was missing. Also, were his eyes playing tricks on him or did it look sort of... crispy?

“What... _is_ this...?” he asked, hesitantly and not quite knowing if he wanted to hear the answer.

“Food. Duh,” Motochika replied. “Grilled fish and some rice, to be exact. It’s just leftovers from earlier so I apologize that it’s cold already...” He paused before saying: “Well, I suppose you can’t really cook your food underwater anyway, right? So you’ve probably never had hot food...” The next part was muttered under his breath as if he were mostly talking to himself. “Gonna have to change that.”

Motonari was not quite sure what it meant to grill fish, but he could only assume that it was some strange human way of preparing a meal. He breathed in deeply, finding the smell of the food not to be entirely unpleasant. In fact, with the state his stomach was in right now, it was even rather appetizing.

Still holding on to some suspicions and remembering the incident with the rum, Motonari asked: “Is this really edible or are you trying to poison me again?”

“I assure you it’s edible. Here, use these,” Motochika said, handing Motonari eating utensils that the merman had never seen before. Seeing the brunet’s odd look, Motochika went on to say: “They’re called chopsticks. You’re supposed to pick your food up with them and bring it to your mouth.”

Motonari was pleased to find that he caught on quickly, and after an initial period of awkward fumbling he was able to pick up a piece of fish - he was too hungry and too curious to refuse to eat the way he had refused to drink.

It tasted... not bad, actually. Very different from the raw fish he was used to and he didn’t recognize any of the spices the food had been seasoned with, but it was acceptable. Perhaps even good. Of course, he was not about to tell Motochika that.

“Hm,” he said, wrinkling his nose a little in an expertly faked look of distaste. “I must say that I much prefer my fish the way the merfolk prepares it.”

“And yet you continue to eat it,” Motochika teased, causing Motonari to halt in his movements with the chopsticks halfway to his mouth. The merman frowned but didn’t say anything, going back to eating his meal without a word.

Once Motonari was done with his food, Motochika removed his feet from the table and scooted forward, leaning towards the merman from across the table.

“So. Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries over with, let’s talk business,” the pirate said, his golden eye gleaming in what could only be described as hunger.

Motonari tensed, straightening his posture and making sure his expression gave nothing away. Was this it? Would the irritating human finally tell him what he intended to do to him and for how much longer he was planning to keep him prisoner on the Rising Sun? He knew too little about the white-haired man to know what to expect.

“There’s something I want from you,” Motochika said then paused, apparently gauging Motonari’s reaction.

“And what would that be?” Motonari asked evenly, prepared for anything and everything.

“Treasure.”

Anything, except for that.

Motonari stared at his captor, both eyebrows raised just the tiniest bit as he tried to guess whether the pirate was joking or not. Going by the look on his face, the man was dead serious about his request, but it just seemed too... simple to Motonari.

“...treasure,” Motonari echoed, a hint of disbelief colouring his tone.

“Aye. There should be plenty of it buried at sea, right?” Motochika said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Sunken ships with all sorts of riches inside. Gold, jewellery, valuable artefacts - anything like that. I want it all.”

A plan began to form in the back of Motonari’s head. With a calculating look in his eyes, he spoke. “In your quest for riches... my role would be to search for said treasure and carry it up to the surface, correct?”

Motochika nodded, grinning widely. “That is correct.”

“And in exchange, I would regain my freedom?”

The pirate’s grin widened even further. “Also correct.”

Motonari was stunned. He could not even believe how _easy_ this was turning out to be. He had already decided that Motochika had to be rather lacking in the intelligence department, but he had not thought the pirate to be _this_ much of a gullible, naive fool. What guarantee did Motochika have that Motonari would bother returning to him once he had set him free? None, none at all.

There had to be some kind of catch.

Motonari intended to find it.

“Very well. I accept your proposition.”

“Excellent! Now let’s talk about the other reward you’ll be getting for a job well done...” Motochika said, trailing off in a manner rather loaded with meaning.

Huffing and wondering how much longer he would be able to put up with the pirate’s dramatics before he snapped and strangled him, Motonari impatiently gestured for the man to carry on. Whatever Motochika had to offer, Motonari was sure he would have no use for it, but for the sake of his act he had to hear the human out anyway.

“First off, I’ll answer any questions you may have about the human world.”

Motonari fought hard to suppress a snort of derision, responding with an entirely neutral: “Well, thank you.”

Motochika chuckled and grinned. “You seem so unimpressed... No matter, I can tell you can barely keep your curiosity in check. I’ve seen it written all over your face several times already. That curiosity alone will be more than enough to keep you coming back, you just don’t know it yet.”

“I am sure it will,” Motonari lied straight through his teeth. Who did this pirate think he was, presuming to make such predictions about Motonari? And to claim to know Motonari better than the merman knew himself? Ridiculous, really. Absolutely ridiculous.

Getting up from his chair and walking over to the cabinet again, Motochika said: “In addition to that I will give you...” He returned, setting down some sort of box in front of Motonari. “...this.”

Motonari eyed the box critically before picking it up to study it more thoroughly. It was made of a smooth, polished wood that felt nice to the touch. Some sort of stylized symbol made of a lighter coloured wood had been inlaid into the top. A piece of golden metal kept the box shut. Motonari inspected the mechanism, but could not quite figure out how to open it.

“Here, like this,” Motochika said, reaching across the table to help him. Again, his fingers brushed Motonari’s as he flicked the mechanism open, causing the merman’s hand to twitch away reflexively. “Now you can open it... just like that.”

The box had opened up into what appeared to be some kind of game board. There were several rows of squares made alternately of white marble and a darker kind of stone. Little symbols had been carved into the tiles as well as the frame of the board, showcasing excellent craftsmanship.

“It is... beautiful, I suppose,” Motonari said, surprising himself by actually meaning it. “But I fail to understand its purpose. Is it merely meant for decoration?”

“Nope, it’s a game. The kind I think you’ll like,” Motochika said. “Look, there’s a hidden compartment over here.”

Motonari watched as the pirate pulled said hidden compartment open, revealing what looked like several small statues held in places by leather straps. Unable to keep his curiosity under control - and cursing himself for unwittingly proving Motochika’s theory partially true - Motonari undid one of the straps and picked one of the little stone statues.

He inspected it, admiring the fine detail of the figure before reaching for another one. There were thirty-two of them in total and they came in two colours: half of them black and the other half white, made from the same stone that the tiles of the board itself had been crafted from. Some pieces were unique while others had several duplicates, the smallest ones making Motonari think they might represent an army.

Deftly plucking the pieces from the box and setting them up on the game board, Motochika began explaining the game. “It’s called chess. The goal is to capture the opponent’s king - that’s this piece right here.” He held up a piece with a crown. “You’ve also got a queen, two rooks, two knights, two bishops and eight pawns you can use however you see fit to reach that goal.”

Fascinated despite himself, Motonari studied the finished set-up. Sixteen white pieces stood in two rows on Motochika’s side of the board while the sixteen black pieces were on Motonari’s side. “So it is a game of strategy, then?” he asked, still letting his eyes rove over the game board.

“Precisely,” Motochika said with a big, victorious grin that went unnoticed by Motonari.

“How do you play?” Motonari asked, finding himself actually wanting to give it a try.

“I’ll teach you when you bring me my treasure.”

Motonari snapped his gaze up to glare at Motochika, seeing that the man was giving him a wide, self-satisfied smirk. Clearly the pirate thought he had Motonari hooked with this. Naturally it was not enough to actually sway Motonari, despite his honest interest in the game. Once he had been set free, he would never be returning to the Rising Sun and its obnoxious captain. That he was sure of.

“So, do we have a deal?” the pirate asked, confidence practically oozing off of him.

Motonari nodded slowly and got ready to tell yet another bold-faced lie. “Yes, I do believe so. I agree to your terms, White Sea Devil of the West, Chosokabe Motochika - Captain of the Rising Sun.”

Chuckling, Motochika said: “No need for such formalities, Mori. Here, let’s just shake on it.”

Carefully hiding his disgust, Motonari stared at the offered hand. He had no desire at all to shake hands with Motochika or to touch him in any other way, but he realized that it was a necessary evil in this situation. Mentally preparing himself for the contact, Motonari took Motochika’s hand.

The pirate’s grip was strong and firm, his hand warm and so much bigger than Motonari’s. The merman hated it, and he hated Motochika, but at least he could console himself with the knowledge that all of this would be over soon.

He didn’t know yet how wrong he was.


	5. Deep Dive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: After the excitement of fighting off the Saika Faction, Motochika and Motonari get to know one another a little better. They end up making a deal: in exchange for a chess set and his freedom, Motonari is supposed to bring Motochika sunken treasure. Of course, Motonari has no intention of holding up his part of the deal...

With a thoughtful hum, Chosokabe Motochika traced a line across the large map he kept pinned to one wall of his cabin.

Still trapped inside that barrel of water like a common pet fish, Mori Motonari was beginning to get rather impatient. That accursed pirate had been trying to pick a route and a meeting spot for what felt like hours to the merman, and still he had not come to a decision.

For Motonari, who had the gift to analyse a situation quickly and determine the best course of action sometimes within seconds, it was torture to sit there and be able to do nothing but wait.

“How much longer is this going to take?” Motonari asked, his rising level of annoyance clear in his tone.

“I’d have been done long ago if you’d just stop nagging every other second,” Motochika replied, shooting Motonari a frown over his shoulder before going back to work. “This is an important decision, you know. You’re from down below, so you’ve got no idea how lucky we were to escape from the Saika Faction unscathed the way we did.”

Acutely aware of the bruises littering his body and the pounding ache in his head he had sustained during the attack, Motonari gave Motochika a rather pointed, accusing look. The pirate apparently had eyes at the back of his head to make up for the missing eye at the front because he suddenly stopped, chuckled and turned around to face Motonari.

“Well, ‘we’ as in me, the crew and the ship,” he said teasingly. Then his grin faded and he gave the brunet an assessing look. “How’s your head doing, by the way? Any better?”

Unwilling to show any weakness, Motonari straightened his posture and replied in a clipped manner. “It is nothing that I cannot bear. Now will you quit wasting my time with your ill-placed concern and finally make a decision?”

Motochika snorted and said: “Jeez. Remember what I said about that stick and your ass? You _really_ need to take it to heart.”

With a glare that could have melted steel, Motonari said: “Make a decision. _Now._ ”

“Already did a long time ago, actually. Making you squirm is just too much fun,” the pirate said cheekily, obviously enjoying Motonari’s look of disbelief if his proud grin was anything to go by. “Right here.” He tapped one finger against a small island on the map. “That’s where we’re gonna meet in... let’s say... a fortnight, I guess. After nightfall. Sound good?”

Swallowing down his anger at that human’s _nerve_ , Motonari nodded in agreement. He would have to bear with it just a little bit longer, then he would be free to go and would never again have to see that stupid hair and that stupid eye patch and most importantly that stupid, stupid grin.

“Great! Alright then. So, we’re about here right now,” Motochika said, pointing to a specific location on the map. “And we picked you up about... here. We covered quite a bit of distance since then. Will you be fine swimming back all the way or should we drop you off somewhere a little closer?”

“I believe I will be fine on my own,” Motonari said, not wishing to remain on the Rising Sun any longer than strictly necessary. It was true, it was a long journey back to the castle - but Motonari was a fast swimmer and he knew how to survive in the ocean even without a weapon or supplies. He had done it before, and he was always prepared to do it again.

“Alright then, suit yourself. Anything else you need before you set off? Some more water, or perhaps another bite to eat? A weapon?” Motochika asked, as if reading the merman’s mind.

Motonari shook his head and declined again. “There is no need.”

Motochika frowned. “Not even a weapon? There’s sharks down there, right? Don’t they attack your kind?”

“There have been incidents, yes,” Motonari admitted, getting impatient again. “But only the foolish and the slow get themselves caught in a confrontation with a shark, and I assure you, I am neither. In either case, your human weapons will be of no use to me underwater. I do not need unnecessary weight dragging me down.”

“Well, if you’re sure you can handle it,” Motochika said, earning himself an icy look for questioning Motonari’s competence. “Let’s get you back where you belong then, shall we?”

And without further ado, Motochika undid the chain that bound the merman. With a glare, Motonari rubbed his abused wrist. Motochika only gave him an apologetic shrug and an irritating little grin.

Then he picked Motonari up with ease - much to the brunet’s chagrin - and carried him back outside, bridal-style.

x--x--x

The crew greeted Motochika with a chorus of cheers when he stepped through the door.

He returned their greetings with a grin and a few encouraging words, causing the merman in his arms to let out a derisive snort. Motochika shook his head, undeterred, and just laughed at Motonari’s superior attitude. It was almost endearing, really.

As they made their way towards the railing, Motochika pondered just how light the merman was. He felt he might as well have been carrying a bag of feathers. Perhaps the merfolk in general had a lighter bone structure than regular humans, or perhaps Motonari was just _that_ tiny and well, fragile.

It kind of made Motochika want to lock him back up in his cabin.

More carefully than he had intended, the pirate set Motonari down on the railing. Fascinated, he watched as the merman gripped the wood to keep himself steady and then closed his eyes, tilting his face up towards the sun. The sight of a slight smile playing across those fine-boned features made something deep in the pit of Motochika’s stomach twist itself up into a tight knot.

When Motonari smiled, he proved all stories Motochika had heard about the beauty of the merfolk right. The sunlight playing across his skin making him practically glow only served to heighten the effect. It was a shame, really, that he usually regarded everyone and everything with such a disdainful look of stoic contempt.

“You really like being out in the sun, don’t you?” Motochika asked quietly, studying Motonari’s features.

After a beat, dark eyelashes fluttered open and brown eyes met a single golden one. Even when he was sitting high up on the railing, Motonari had to look up to meet Motochika’s gaze.

“I do,” Motonari admitted just as quietly, surprising the pirate with his honesty and uncharacteristic openness.

Only now did it occur to Motochika how close they were, Motonari sitting on the railing and Motochika standing in front of him, both of his hands resting on the wood next to the merman’s. For a few moments longer Motochika held Motonari’s gaze, marvelling at the look of near contentment on the other’s face before he stepped back.

“Bring me something good,” he said, his usual grin back in place.

The smile faded from Motonari’s face, replaced by his usual calm, calculating look. “I will,” he said, and Motochika could tell that he thought he was lying.

Without saying goodbye, Motonari let himself drop backwards into the deep blue sea. Motochika walked up towards the railing and gazed down into the water below, catching one last glimpse of an elegant green tail before the merman was gone for good.

Motochika was still thoughtfully staring into the water when one of his men stepped up beside him.

“Ye really think he’ll be back, Cap’n?” the man asked, uncertainty colouring his tone.

A slow, confident smirk painted itself across Motochika’s lips.

“Without a doubt.”

x--x--x

It was cold.

That was the first thing that Motonari noticed when he returned to his rightful place underneath the surface. And the deeper he dove, the colder it got.

Funny, how he had never noticed the cold before and how it had never bothered him in the slightest until now. But now that he had known the welcoming warmth of the sun on his skin, the sea’s cool embrace that had once been so comforting seemed like ice to him.

It was dark underwater too, and in the end Motonari resolved to swim just below the surface where the water was bright and warmed by the sun. Only when the sun began to set did he dive down deeply into the sea, seeking out the routes he was used to travelling.

It seemed too soon when the looming shape of King Hideyoshi’s castle appeared before Motonari in the distance. He had thought he would feel relief upon seeing the familiar structure, but all he felt was a lingering sense of dread.

He had planned to make use of his lengthy journey to figure out which information he would share with the King and his advisor - for there was no doubt in his mind that Hanbei would want to question him - and which information he would omit, but now he found that he had been too preoccupied with thoughts of warmth and bright light.

He thought about the Rising Sun and its crew, and was horrified to detect a hint of longing sneaking up on him.

That was simply unacceptable.

Pulling himself together and pushing all thoughts of wild white hair and a smouldering eye of molten gold from his mind, Motonari put on a burst of speed. He was determined to leave all that had happened up on the surface behind - just another memory to lock up tightly in a box at the back of his head.

Soon enough, he reached the castle.

x--x--x

“Wait, is that... Yes, it’s him! He’s back!”

“Lord Mori has returned to the castle! Quick, let the King know!”

The soldiers guarding the gate split up, some rushing towards him and others making their way into the castle. In a manner of seconds, Motonari found himself swarmed, a whole slew of questions raining down upon him. Instantly, his headache returned with a vengeance.

Irritated, he held up a hand, effectively silencing the nosy soldiers. “Save your breath for the gossip my return is sure to stir up,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Do you not see that I am injured? Should you really be badgering me like this?”

The soldiers paled and exchanged guilty glances. The one with the highest rank among them straightened up respectfully and said: “Please accept our deepest apologies, Lord Mori!” Then he turned towards one of the others and barked: “You! What are you waiting for?! Alert the medics! And you! Stop gaping and escort Lord Mori to the infirmary! _Now!_ ”

Motonari scoffed as he watched the soldiers scurry into action like a school of startled fish. It appeared he was surrounded by incompetent idiots no matter where he went.

A few minutes later, he found himself in the infirmary, the medics poking and prodding none too gently at his injuries. Motonari bore with it silently, swallowing down any complaints he may have had about the treatment. It was bad enough that he had allowed himself to become injured in the first place, he didn’t want to appear weak and whiny on top of that.

Just when one of the medics cleaned and disinfected one of his abrasions in a particularly unpleasant manner, the door opened and in swam the last person Motonari wished to see right now.

Takenaka Hanbei, in all his smug, superior glory.

With his silver hair and his deathly pale skin, the merman looked like nothing more than a ghost. His tail was that of a white dolphin, only furthering the impression that he had long outlived his time on Earth. The only splash of colour on his person was the deep indigo of his eyes and the purple of the distinctive mask he wore.

He swam towards Motonari now, stopping in the middle of the room to study him with the intensity he was known for. Motonari proudly kept his chin high, his eyes alert as he waited for Hanbei to make the first move.

“Well, well...” Hanbei finally said, his silken tone rubbing Motonari all wrong. “How fortunate that you were able to find your way back. We had almost given up hope when our search parties returned with nothing to show for their efforts. Truly, losing a strategist of your calibre would have been a harsh blow for the Toyotomi...”

Motonari wondered if the medics still working on his injuries were able to see through Hanbei’s faked pleasantries just as easily as he was. To him, it was obvious that the sickly merman was speaking with a forked tongue. Chances were, he had been hoping that Motonari was dead - or if not that, then at least gone forever.

“There should have been no need for concern,” Motonari said. “After all, surely you must have learned by now that I am not so easily subdued.”

Hanbei’s lips curled into a small, sharp smile and his eyes glittered in warning. “Indeed. Another reason why your presence would have been greatly missed.”

Motonari said nothing, merely choosing to keep his gaze locked with Hanbei’s. He refused to be the first one to break eye contact and look away. He tensed when Hanbei came a little closer, ostensibly to get a better look at the state Motonari was in and not to intimidate him.

“What ugly bruises...” Hanbei commented pleasantly, his eyes lingering on the bump on Motonari’s forehead for a few long moments before moving on to trace the rest of his body. “I see you were not treated kindly on that human ship.”

Certain that he could detect a hint of hidden delight in Hanbei’s tone at Motonari’s misfortune, the brunet narrowed his eyes in response but did not make his suspicions known. Instead, he said: “It is nothing that cannot be cured.”

Recognizing the dig at his own ill health for what it was, the white-haired merman straightened up a little and shot Motonari a dangerous smile. “A scar or two might suit you, though.” He glanced at the medics before turning his attention back to Motonari. “Well then, finish getting your injuries treated. I expect you to report to the King once you are done, then you can rest.”

Motonari grudgingly nodded in agreement, and Hanbei left.

x--x--x

Knowing better than to keep the King waiting, Motonari did as he had been told and made his way towards the throne room immediately after he had been released from the infirmary.

Exhaustion was beginning to tug at his mind, the strain of his long journey and the late hour finally beginning to take its toll on Motonari. Surely Hanbei was counting on that, hoping to squeeze information out of Motonari that he would not have shared had he been in top condition.

It irritated him, but in his position, there was nothing he could do but obey.

The soldiers guarding the entrance to the throne room had apparently been told that he would be arriving soon, because they parted their spears without a word and let Motonari through. The giant clam door separating the throne room from the hallway opened and Motonari was granted entrance.

Slowly, he made his way towards the throne where King Hideyoshi was sitting, his giant body exuding a powerful sense of authority as always. The King was the biggest, bulkiest merman Motonari had ever laid eyes upon, cutting quite an imposing figure with his prominent features and the thick sideburns framing his face.

Should Motonari ever find himself in a situation where he had to fight King Hideyoshi, he knew that he would be utterly, hopelessly outmatched.

The King was capable of tearing opponents apart with his bare hands.

As always, Hanbei was at his place by King Hideyoshi’s side, keeping a watchful eye over everything and ready to whisper advice into the King’s ear at a moment’s notice. At the King’s other side was Yoshitsugu, his dark eyes roving over Motonari’s abused body, clearly inspecting and cataloguing his injuries for Poseidon only knew which reasons.

Apart from Motonari, there was one other person in the throne room and that was Ishida Mitsunari, King Hideyoshi’s slavishly devoted and deeply loyal guard dog. He was tall but slight of build, looking as if he regularly forgot to eat. And yet he was a dangerous opponent, insanely fast and just as deadly as his great white shark tail suggested.

He was hovering off to the side, regarding Motonari with a dark, mistrustful look. Motonari was aware that Mitsunari did not like him very much, but he did not think it was cause for alarm. After all, Mitsunari was the type that disliked _everyone_ , apart from King Hideyoshi of course, and perhaps his advisers as well.

Motonari stopped advancing at a respectful distance, bowing his head while internally he wanted to scream. It ate away at his pride to bow his head to anyone, especially to a man like King Hideyoshi. If it would not have resulted in the immediate and complete annihilation of Aki, Motonari would have never surrendered himself and his men into the servitude of this dreadful King and his snake of a right hand man.

No, he would have fought - until the bitter end.

But Motonari was no fool, and so he had chosen to play his part in this charade of an alliance like a good little subject, all while biding his time and waiting for his chance to strike.

“You wished to see me, Your Majesty,” Motonari intoned evenly, skilfully keeping any hint of disdain out of his tone.

“Indeed. Go on, raise your head,” the King’s booming voice resounded throughout the room.

Motonari did as he was told, looking up to meet King Hideyoshi’s gaze without any trace of fear. He had signed his freedom over to the King, but he would never willingly give him what remained of his pride and dignity. The King watched him for a few moments with a blank expression that even Motonari could not read before he spoke again - just a single word.

“Hanbei.”

“Of course, Hideyoshi,” Hanbei said silkily, addressing the King with that alarmingly familiar way he was prone to. The King never berated him for it, a fact that Motonari and many others had taken notice of. It did make you wonder - in Motonari’s case, he specifically wondered if this was something he could _use_.

With deliberately slow motions, Hanbei detached himself from his usual spot at King Hideyoshi’s side and swam towards Motonari, circling around him and making soft noises of consideration under his breath. It was all Motonari could do to keep the glare off his face and his body relaxed despite the uncomfortable scrutiny he was being subjected to.

“The soldiers that were assigned to escort you to the surface reported that despite their warnings, you got caught in a human fishing net...” Hanbei finally said, his tone nothing but pleasant. “Disregarding the question of how you could have possibly allowed yourself to be captured in such an undignified manner, how did you manage to escape?”

“I was released,” Motonari said, rigidly keeping his head facing forward and swallowing down the rage and humiliation he felt.

“Released?” Hanbei echoed, and Motonari did not need to see him to know that he had painted an exaggerated look of surprise onto his face. “Just like that? Humans have been fascinated with us merfolk ever since they first laid eyes upon one of our kind; what motivation could they possibly have had to release such a rare catch so quickly and so willingly?”

“You expect me to be able to understand and analyse the motives of such lowly creatures?” Motonari asked, knowing that Hanbei would drag the information out of him soon enough anyway, but unable to stop himself from being a little difficult.

Hanbei stopped in front of him, giving him an appraising look. After a beat, he raised one thin white eyebrow and said: “Well, to be perfectly honest, _yes_. Don’t tell me rumours of your genius were that greatly exaggerated? Is your supposed brilliance merely a pretence, then?”

The realization that he had set himself up for that one perfectly irritated Motonari to no end. He was very well aware that Hanbei was fishing for information by questioning his intelligence in such an obvious manner, but Motonari’s pride still had him answer Hanbei’s initial inquiry. “There was a deal involved. In exchange for my freedom, I was asked to bring him sunken treasure.”

“Him?” Hanbei echoed once again, surprising Motonari. He had assumed the merman would ask about the treasure first.

“Their captain,” Motonari replied, wondering if he had slipped up again by steering the conversation towards the leader of the Rising Sun’s crew.

“Does he have a name then, this _captain_?”

“Chosokabe Motochika,” Motonari said, the name sliding off his tongue so easily and without even a moment’s hesitation. It appalled him, really, how deeply that name had already ingrained itself into his very being. It was like it had been there all along, right there at the tip of his tongue, just waiting to tumble from his lips.

“He must have left quite the impression on you,” Hanbei said and Motonari found himself cursing the sickly merman’s perceptiveness all the way to hell and back again. “What is he like?”

With every passing second Motonari found himself hating the direction this conversation was taking more and more. Now that Hanbei had found something of interest to latch onto, he would not let it drop until his curiosity had been satisfied. In that regard, he was far more of a shark than a dolphin.

Making sure that his expression was every bit as calm and detached as always, Motonari answered Hanbei’s question. “They call him the White Sea Devil of the West, or so he claims. He is rude and an uncivilised brute, with table manners that are quite frankly appalling. As is only to be expected from a lowly pirate, of course.”

“A pirate ship, then...” Hanbei mused quietly, sounding more as if he were talking to himself than anyone in the room. “Constantly on the run, travelling many places and stealing all sorts of exotic things... The things that could _be_ on that ship...”

Abruptly, Hanbei appeared to remember his audience and turned back to Motonari, continuing his questioning. He asked many questions - questions about what Motonari had seen on Motochika’s ship, what he had talked about with the pirate, how he had sustained his injuries, the ship to ship combat between the Rising Sun and the Saika Faction. Hanbei wanted to know every last detail, and Motonari lied wherever he thought he could get away with it.

A whole lot of truth and a couple of well-placed lies, that was how you fooled Takenaka Hanbei. Or at least how Motonari hoped to fool the accursed strategist.

It seemed like hours had passed when Hanbei finally fell silent, his eyes unfocused as he gazed off somewhere into the distance unseeingly, apparently lost in thought. Yoshitsugu watched on, studying both Motonari and Hanbei in turn. It was King Hideyoshi who finally broke the silence, his powerful voice loud in the sparsely decorated throne room.

“The weapons, Hanbei,” he said, startling Hanbei out of whatever matters he had been contemplating so feverishly.

“The weapons... yes, of course,” Hanbei said, gathering himself as he turned back to face Motonari. “The weapons that were used in the battle you witnessed... The Toyotomi are already nigh undefeatable, but possessing weapons of such strength would make our forces truly invincible. So I ask you - what are they called? How do they work? And can we use them?”

Tensing up, Motonari dreaded the thought of what it would do to his plans if King Hideyoshi did indeed end up acquiring weapons of such piercing force. “I do not know,” he replied. Luckily it was the truth, so he did not even have to pretend.

“Then find out.”

A thick silence followed those words. Motonari frowned, and finally spoke. “Excuse me?”

“I do believe you heard me, Motonari,” Hanbei said, causing the brunet merman’s skin to crawl at being addressed in such a condescendingly familiar manner. “The King wants those weapons, no matter what it takes. As you have already made contact with these humans, you are a perfect candidate for the task of acquiring them.”

“Surely you do not mean to imply that--” Motonari began, a horrible sense of dread sneaking up on him.

Hanbei interrupted him, his arms crossed behind his back and the most irritating little smile he had ever given him displayed smugly on his painted lips as he said with finality: “Hereby you are relieved of your former duties as a tactician and a member of the royal court. Your new task is to become a spy for the Toyotomi.”

“This is outrageous! I demand--”

But his protests were interrupted once more by Hanbei speaking again, his voice able to overpower Motonari’s with ease despite its softness. “There is an abandoned shipwreck not too far from here. It should be an easy task to take a few soldiers with you and retrieve the sunken treasure you were asked to bring.”

Realizing that arguing with Hanbei was merely a waste of his breath, Motonari turned to King Hideyoshi in a last ditch effort, hoping he would at least be able to reason with him. “Your Majesty, surely you agree that we have men available that would be far more qualified--”

“Quite to the contrary, I’m afraid,” Hanbei interrupted again. “The fact that you have already made contact and established a certain level of _trust_ with these humans puts you into a unique position. For anyone else to show up in your stead would look highly unnatural. No, Hideyoshi - it has to be Motonari.”

“I agree with you fully,” King Hideyoshi said to Hanbei, earning himself a pleased little smile. Then the King turned to Motonari, giving him a look that left no room for further arguments. “The one to carry out this task shall be you, tactician.”

Motonari wrestled with himself, his hands clenching into tight fists before he forced them to relax. “As you wish,” he said smoothly, doing his best to keep his displeasure hidden.

“Very good,” Hanbei said, and even though he kept his expression professional, Motonari could still swear that he could detect a smug gleam of victory in the merman’s purple eyes. “When you meet with the pirates again, gather as much information as possible. Their weapons, their tactics, their ship, their belongings, their customs and habits. Leave nothing out - we expect a thorough report.”

“I understand,” Motonari said, rage boiling just underneath his calm mask. Not only did he have to deal with Motochika and the crew of the Rising Sun again, no - Hanbei had also finally found a pretext to exclude him from the dealings of the royal court entirely. All his schemes would come to a grinding halt, the lack of inside information stalling the execution of his plans indefinitely.

King Hideyoshi raised a large hand and waved it in Motonari’s direction in a shooing motion, as if he were nothing but an insignificant little jellyfish that had drifted too close to the King for his liking.

“Dismissed,” the King said, dooming Motonari to his fate.

x--x--x

He simply had no words.

When Motonari had arrived at the castle, he had been tired, hungry and sore. Now he was unspeakably angry on top of that, souring his mood to as of yet unprecedented levels.

How had Hanbei managed to put him into this damnable situation? _How?!_ And what had Motonari done to deserve this? Surely planning to take his home of Aki back from King Hideyoshi and returning it to its rightful ruler - that is, himself - was not so wicked an agenda that it should be punished so harshly. It was just a little bit of high treason, where was the harm in that?

He could already picture the smug, self-satisfied smile that horrible pirate would be wearing when Motonari showed up at the designated meeting spot in two weeks time, the requested treasure in tow. Oh, how he would tease him endlessly... he could already hear the stupid comments and jokes Motochika was sure to make.

Worst of all, Motonari was now under strict orders to endure it all.

He had never been angrier.

And as his rotten luck would have it, Tsuruhime chose that precise moment to accost him in the hallway again and pierce his ear drums with her annoyingly girlish, high-pitched voice. With the worst timing imaginable, the Oracle popped up at his side as if appearing out of nowhere, a flush to her cheeks and her lips set in a wide smile.

“I _knew_ you would be back unharmed, I just _knew_ it!” she said, darting past him to block his way. She giggled at the dark look he sent her, and amended her statement: “Well, relatively unharmed I suppose... But at least you’re back! Look on the bright side!”

Motonari stopped in his tracks, not wishing to collide with the girl and knowing she would not allow him to push past her. “I am _not_ in the mood right now. Will you for once actually _listen_ _to me_ and _understand what I am saying?!_ ” he hissed, eyes flashing coldly.

“Oh Motonari, when are you _ever_ in the mood?” Tsuruhime asked, strangely giddy even for her standards. She moved her eyebrows in a manner that Motonari was appalled to realize was supposed to be a _waggle_ and asked: “So, did you meet her?”

“Meet _who_?” Motonari echoed, getting more and more impatient by the second.

“Why, your one true love of course, silly!” Tsuruhime chirped happily, her smile widening as she clasped her hands in front of her chest. Motonari could practically see pink bubbles and sparkling hearts floating in the water around her when she began gushing in earnest. “I had the most romantic vision...! Oh, it was beautiful...! I tried to tell you last time, but you wouldn’t hear me out...” A pout, then a grin. “So, again - was I right? Did you end up meeting the love of your life?”

“The... love of my life...?” Motonari repeated, his face twisted up into an expression of utter disgust. The ideas this girl came up with... Surely this had to be her first inaccurate prediction ever. The only people he had met on the Rising Sun were Motochika and his crew, and in the highly unlikely event that Motonari should ever fall for anybody, it surely would not be one of those filthy pirates.

Suddenly, it hit him.

He had indeed fallen in love, hadn’t he? With that glorious, bright sphere that hung high up in the sky during the day. That wonderful, magnificent warmth... How he longed to be out in the sun once more, the chance to be able to enjoy its light on his skin again the only upside to Hanbei’s decision to turn him into a spy.

If he had looked at Tsuruhime’s face right then, he would have seen the look of utter fascination and disbelief she was wearing when a light smile began tugging at the corners of his lips.

“My one true love... Well, I suppose you could say that.”

The Oracle’s face lit up and she practically squealed in delight. “What wonderful news! You simply _must_ tell me all about her! What is her name? What is she like?”

“...radiant. Simply radiant,” Motonari replied after a moment’s pause, his eyes which were usually so hard and cold uncharacteristically soft. Suddenly in very high spirits, Motonari excused himself and left Tsuruhime behind. He ignored her shouted questions and practically floated towards his quarters.

He had much to think about.

Neither of them noticed a dark shape with many suction-cup bearing limbs melting back into the shadows.

x--x--x

Exactly two weeks later, Mori Motonari broke the surface again.


	6. Fall of the Mighty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Motonari returns to the castle, certain that he will never see Motochika again. After being questioned about his time on the Rising Sun by Hanbei and the King he is ordered to keep meeting with Motochika. His task: gathering information about humans and their weapons. Needless to say, he is not happy with the arrangement.

The sound of a fire crackling merrily could be heard over the steady rise and fall of the ocean’s waves.

Night had fallen a long time ago, their only source of light now the camp fire that they were gathered around. The crew of the Rising Sun was well on its way to complete and utter inebriation, the rum flowing freely and the stories getting raunchier by the minute.

Chosokabe Motochika was the only that had barely touched either food or drink, lost in his own thoughts as he stared into the fire. The raucous laughter of his men barely registered in his mind, so distracted was he by thoughts of cold brown eyes and exquisitely pale white skin.

The merman in question had yet to show up at the designated meeting spot.

“Cap’n, ye ought t’ at least eat somethin’,” one of his men said, pulling him from his musings.

Motochika blinked and looked up, his single gold eye focusing on the bread on a stick that was being offered to him. It looked and smelled simply divine, and only when his stomach rumbled loudly did Motochika realize just how hungry he was.

Chuckling, he took the stick and said: “You’re right. Thank you.”

With that he began eating, much to the delight of his empty stomach. He’d barely swallowed the first bite when one of his more sober men spoke up.

“Gettin’ late, innit?” the man mused, pulling his gaze from where it had been resting on the horizon to regard Motochika with a careful look. “He shoulda been here long ago. We been waitin’ for hours now.”

“Patience, my friend. The night’s not over yet,” Motochika said.

“What if he doesn’t show?” another man spoke up, daring to put into words what they were all undoubtedly thinking.

Motochika’s voice was firm with conviction as he said: “He’ll show. I know he will. There’s no way he’s walking away from this.” A pause, then a snort and an amused grin. “Or, heh, swimming away, as it were.”

There was nothing subtle about the worried glances the crew exchanged among themselves at that.

“Cap’n...” someone said, but trailed off uncertainly.

“He’ll come,” Motochika said with finality, making it very clear that he considered the conversation to be over.

They didn’t speak of it again.

x--x--x

As it turned out, carrying so much gold and jewellery was quite cumbersome.

Perhaps the weight would not have bothered Motonari as much if he hadn’t also been wearing his iconic helmet and carrying his ring blade. Then there was his ceremonial armour, worn only on special occasions.

The last time Motonari had worn it, he had signed the treaty which had given King Hideyoshi full sovereignty over Aki.

Said armour consisted of two long, sleeve-like arm guards with a golden trim that went past his hands. The small stones and shells they were decorated with had the same green, gold and aquamarine colour as the scales of his tail.

All that weight added together was slowing him down far more than he would have liked, turning an already bothersome journey into a _strenuous_ journey.

The worst of it all was that he had actually found himself looking _forward_ to this trip.

It was unthinkable. Unimaginable. The illustrious Mori Motonari, looking forward to meeting with a rag-tag bunch of _pirates_? Preposterous. Simply preposterous. And yet it was the undeniable truth.

The mighty had fallen, and they had fallen truly, madly, deeply.

There were so many questions Motonari wanted answers to - so many things he wanted to learn.

Perhaps studying humans would also give him some sort of advantage he could use in his ongoing fight against Hanbei and King Hideyoshi, but much to his surprise Motonari found that such thoughts were only a distant second to his need to _know things_.

He wanted to learn how to play chess, and he wanted to _beat_ Motochika at it.

Thoroughly.

He wanted to feel thirst again and he wanted to quench it - either with water, or perhaps he could even give that so-called rum another try, now that he knew what to expect.

He wanted to eat more grilled fish, because really, food underneath the surface was so, so bland in comparison.

He wanted to run his fingers over those strange, soft scales of Motochika’s pet parrot, wouldn’t even mind if the bird started tugging at his hair again.

He no longer wanted to feel cold and isolated all the time, trapped within the oppressive walls of King Hideyoshi’s castle where everything was dark and unwelcoming and all his plans were slowly but systematically being brought to a terrible, grinding halt.

He wanted to see the sun again.

The sun, and...

x--x--x

Chosokabe Motochika was a fool.

That was the first thought that came to Motonari’s mind when he broke the surface and spotted the fire that had been lit on the beach.

It was burning brightly - so easy to see in the darkness of night. Any ship at all passing by would surely notice it, including the King’s fleet - and Motonari had learned rather painfully that you did not want to get caught in a confrontation with the King’s fleet and this so-called Saika Faction.

Irritated at the pirate’s carelessness, Motonari dove back under water with a scowl on his face.

He closed the remaining distance to the beach quickly before emerging once more, this time revealing his presence.

x--x--x

“ _Cap’n_ , a sea mon--”

The bearded man cut himself off abruptly, his hand freezing against his pistol in a mixture of relief and incredulity.

Motochika had seen it, too - a strange, oddly smooth looking green _thing_ slowly rising out of the water.

The number of vicious legendary sea monsters whose description matched this mysterious object was quite frankly alarming, but Motochika knew exactly what - or rather, _who_ \- they were dealing with here.

And sure enough, a moment or two later, Motonari’s serious face appeared underneath the green _something_ that Motochika now recognized to be a hat - or perhaps more accurately: a helmet of sorts that was, oddly enough, shaped like some kind of vegetable.

It was easily one of the most ridiculous things Motochika had ever seen.

For the past two weeks he had thought hard about what he wanted to say to Motonari when they met again.

Countless balls of wadded up paper decorating the floor of his cabin were proof of the hours he had spent coming up with potential lines until he had found _the one_ \- the wittiest, cleverest thing he could possibly say, delightfully laced with a subtle dose of teasing and sure to leave the merman gaping and potentially blushing, too.

Faced with such an unintentionally hilarious sight, all his carefully chosen words failed Motochika. His tension left him in one fell swoop, relief and a wave of giddy excitement washing over him.

Motonari was here. He was here, and he was wearing a ridiculous helmet.

Motochika couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing.

_Loudly._

x--x--x

Motonari had broken the surface with an imperious lecture about Motochika’s appalling lack of competence ready on his lips.

He never got the chance to deliver it.

His eyes sought out Motochika’s single golden one, finding him quickly among his crew. Their eyes met, a strange tingling sensation starting at the base of Motonari’s spine.

The merman opened his mouth to speak.

And then the pirate laughed.

_That_ certainly derailed Motonari’s train of thought quite effectively.

He froze, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. Old insecurities flared up again and he shut his mouth again with a click, heatedly glaring at anyone that would meet his gaze.

Motochika was not the only one laughing; his laughter just sounded the loudest and the most obnoxious to Motonari’s ears. His tail twitched once, twice, three times like that of an irritated cat before he forced himself to suppress the movement.

Why had he ever looked forward to this meeting?

He couldn’t even remember.

After a few more humiliating moments, the laughter finally died down safe for a small chuckle here or there.

“Are you quite finished, then?” Motonari asked with all the warmth of a glacier. Most of his ire was focused on Motochika, but in the back of his mind he was also cursing Takenaka Hanbei and the King for putting him in this situation in the first place.

“Yeah, I think I’m good now,” Motochika replied, either missing or deliberately ignoring Motonari’s sarcasm. Still grinning far more widely than he had any right to, the pirate got to his feet and made his way over to the merman in a manner that could only be called a _swagger_.

Motonari wanted to punch him.

Motochika crouched down in front of Motonari, who was still sitting in the shallow water where the waves gently lapped at his body. The human gave him a critical once-over, lingering a little on his armour before shooting him another grin.

“Nice hat,” he said.

“It is _not_ a _hat_ ,” Motonari replied icily. “ _Clearly_ it is a helmet.”

Motochika hummed thoughtfully and flicked his finger against the helmet, resulting in a metallic clang. Glaring, Motonari slapped his hand away when he tried to do it again.

“I suppose it _is_ a helmet... If a rather odd one,” Motochika conceded playfully, his eye gleaming with mirth.

Motonari was very well aware that the pirate was goading him, but he still could not help but get offended. He raised his chin and threw Motochika a superior look - he was rather good at those, after all.

“It is not merely a helmet, it is a _status symbol_ ,” he explained haughtily. “One that identifies me as the Lord of Aki. There is nothing odd about it, and if you wrongfully think so, then you would do best to keep your inconsequential opinions to yourself, _pirate_.”

“Touchy, touchy,” Motochika teased.

And then he did something that Motonari had not been quite expecting and therefore found himself unable to prevent: he reached for the merman’s helmet and deftly plucked it from his head.

“Men, hold onto this for me, will ya?” the human said as he turned around and tossed the helmet towards his crew where the item was caught safely. “And don’t break it.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n!” said the man that had happened to catch it.

Motonari gaped even though really, by now he should no longer be so shocked at this man’s sheer audacity.

“How _dare_ you!” he said accusingly when he finally found his voice again.

Motochika turned back around and shot Motonari an utterly shameless, unapologetic grin. He said: “Don’t get mad, Mori. I’m doing you a favour here, really - you look much better without it. Don’t you think so, men?”

“Aye, Cap’n!”

“Yeah, real pretty - jus’ like a woman.”

“An’ a fine one at that!”

“Can’t deny I’d tap--”

“Alright men, that’s enough,” Motochika abruptly cut the string of compliments off before things could get out of hand. “I think he gets the idea. Don’t you, Mori?”

Motonari tore his gaze away from the leering crew and threw Motochika the most unamused glare he had given him yet. He could still feel eyes roving over his body and to say it made him uncomfortable was an understatement.

In a nervous habit he had been until then unaware he possessed, Motonari brushed a strand of wet brown hair behind one ear, his arm guard nearly getting tangled up in his locks. It only served to irritate him further.

Regally, he said: “This is ridiculous. Ridiculous, and utterly beneath me. I demand my helmet back at once!”

“Eh, maybe later,” Motochika said playfully. “Anyway, it’s good to see you’re doing well. Of course, there’s still that same old problem with that stick - you know which one I’m talking about - but that’s nothing that can’t be remedied. We’ll work on it, I promise.”

Motonari bristled at that and drew himself up to his full height - which was even less impressive than usual, considering he was sitting down - and opened his mouth to give Motochika a piece of his mind.

The pirate didn’t give him the opportunity to speak.

He patted the bag that Motonari had brought and said: “So, I’m assuming my treasure’s in here, then?”

Motonari took a deep breath and tried to swallow down his anger, reminding himself again and again that he should not allow this man to rile him up so easily.

“ _Obviously_ ,” he all but hissed. “Where else could it possibly be?”

Undeterred by Motonari’s snappiness, Motochika chuckled and with a positively devious grin said: “I don’t know - could’ve taken up residence with the stick for all I know!”

“ _Enough_ about the bloody stick already!” Motonari exploded.

Motochika blinked and was actually shocked speechless for a moment, a fact that pleased Motonari greatly until he remembered that he was supposed to keep up his calm, superior façade at all times. The brunet huffed then and looked away, his features set in an unhappy scowl.

After another moment of silence in which Motochika threw a helpless look towards his crew, the pirate awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Right. So, uh... no more teasing?”

“You’d do well to refrain from it, that is, if you _do_ still want your treasure,” Motonari said with all the dignity he could muster right now, surreptitiously eyeing Motochika from the corner of his eyes.

“I’m a pirate, _of course_ I want the treasure,” Motochika said, back to grinning like an obnoxious fool. “Let me give you a hand with that?” he asked, reaching out for Motonari’s bag.

Motonari sighed and with effort hoisted the bag containing the valuables up. Motochika took it and slung it over his shoulder with ease that had Motonari grit his teeth in frustration.

“You next,” the pirate said, and before Motonari could quite comprehend what the man meant by that he had already picked the merman up and gotten to his feet.

“I assumed we would be talking in your cabin,” Motonari commented carefully, trying to touch Motochika as little as possible as he was carried towards the fire where the rest of the crew was waiting.

“And have you miss out on the treat that is bread on a stick? I think not!” Motochika replied.

And so Motonari found himself sitting by Motochika’s side, forced to endure even more curious stares. Dealing with Motochika alone was bad enough; he really did not want to have to deal with his men on top of that - but as things were right now, he did not have a choice.

Motochika whistled as he opened the treasure bag, reaching in and grabbing hold of a handful of gold coins. “Look at this, men,” he said. “Quite the haul, isn’t it?” With that, he handed the bag off to the man sitting next to him. His crew passed it around so that everyone could take a look at the riches inside.

While the pirates were quite preoccupied with their precious treasure, Motonari found his gaze drawn to the fire blazing in the middle of the circle. He had heard stories and he had seen the candle Motochika had lit in his cabin two weeks ago, but seeing fire like this was something else entirely. It looked so bright, so warm, so welcoming - a little bit like the sun in that regard, in fact.

Before he knew what he was doing, Motonari had already leant forward and had a hand outstretched towards the flames. He wanted to touch them - see what it felt like.

By the time Motochika noticed what he was up to, it was already too late.

“Mori, _don’t_ \--”

With a startled cry of pain, Motonari snatched his hand back as if - quite literally - burned. The flesh that had come into contact with the fire throbbed in a way he had never experienced before.

It _hurt_.

Instinctively, the merman pulled his fingers into his mouth and sucked on the digits, seeking to soothe the ache. It didn’t quite work.

“Idiot,” Motochika said with exasperation, earning himself a dark glare. Then the pirate reached for a pitcher of water. Gripping Motonari’s wrist, he removed his fingers from his mouth and made him put them into the cold water instead. His armour made it a little awkward, but it still worked.

Motonari sighed softly as the water relieved his pain a little, making it more bearable. He took the pitcher from Motochika with his good hand and pulled it into his own lap. Then he glared at the pirate again, daring him to comment.

Motochika just shook his head. “Well, I suppose you won’t be making _that_ mistake again any time soon, but just for future reference: fire is _bad_. Alright?”

“I _noticed_ ,” Motonari said acidly. “Painfully so, in fact. Would it have killed you to give me some warning?”

“Hey, I _tried_ to warn you,” Motochika said, raising his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Not my fault you didn’t listen and reached into the fire anyway like an idiot.”

Motonari huffed in annoyance and pointedly scooted away from Motochika to make his displeasure known - only to bump into the man sitting on his other side. Startled, he jumped a little, snapping his gaze up only to find the human leering down at him in a way that made Motonari’s skin crawl. His smile was wide and somewhat crooked, revealing that he was missing a tooth.

“C’mere, me beauty,” the man slurred, his breath smelling strongly of rum.

With a hungry glint in his glassy eyes that Motonari found highly untrustworthy, the pirate tried to reach for him with grubby hands. Motonari did the only thing he could think to do to defend himself: he took the pitcher of water and splashed its contents right into the leering man’s face.

“Do _not_ dare to touch me, you foul beast!”

The man spluttered and coughed, trying to wipe the water off his face. The rest of the crew hooted and hollered, clearly amused by the incident. Motochika was chuckling as well, casually slinging an arm over Motonari’s narrow shoulders so he could pull him back to his side. Motonari let him.

“No need to get so defensive, Mori,” Motochika said. “They’re all good men at heart. Sure, they may look like a bunch of roughnecks and they get a little rowdy when they’re drunk, but I assure you they don’t bite.” A beat, then a grin. “ _Much._ ”

“How is that supposed to ease my mind?” Motonari asked incredulously.

Motochika did not respond to Motonari’s question; instead he was eyeing him critically, stroking his chin. “Unless of course you _want_ them to bite. I suppose you _could_ very well be the type to enjoy _that_ as well...”

With a noise of frustration, Motonari did his very best to dislodge Motochika’s arm from around his shoulders. “Will you quit making all these insinuations?” he hissed. “They are demeaning and quite frankly disgusting!”

Motochika relented, giving Motonari back his precious personal space. “Alright, I’ll be good,” he promised, his golden eye still gleaming with humour. “Sometimes it’s just too hard to resist, you know?”

Motonari sniffed haughtily. “Of course, I wouldn’t expect a mere pirate to have any sort of self control at all over his base urges. Uncivilized brutes, the lot of you.”

“Better than a stuck-up noble,” someone said, earning himself a murmured chorus of agreement.

“I’ll drink to that,” Motochika said, cheerfully raising his glass. He turned to Motonari, his usual grin in place. “You want some rum, too?”

Motonari just rolled his eyes.

“Food, then? I bet you’re hungry after travelling so far.”

The merman frowned slightly, one hand coming to rest against his stomach. He had brought a small meal with him on his trip, but nothing truly filling. Eyeing what had to be this so-called ‘bread on a stick’ that Motochika had mentioned before, Motonari said: “A little, perhaps.”

“Yer gonna love it,” the man sitting next to Motochika said as he handed his captain one of the sticks.

Motochika passed it on to Motonari, wrapping his much larger hand around Motonari’s smaller one as he guided the stick towards the fire. The merman very much ignored the way his hand still tingled even after the pirate had let go of it.

“Keep it like that - not too close to the fire, not too far away,” Motochika advised, and Motonari nodded.

After that, Motochika asked how Motonari’s journey had been and from there the conversation naturally progressed to how he had acquired all that treasure. When it was Motonari’s turn to ask the questions, he asked how fire was made and what humans used it for - apart from what he had already seen, that is.

Once his food was done, Motonari tasted it, careful not to burn himself again. It was his first time eating bread, so naturally his next questions were about its ingredients and how to acquire them. He learned many things - not necessarily things that he thought would interest Hanbei or the King, but things that he himself found fascinating and right now, that was all he could bring himself to care about.

Motochika and the crew of the Rising Sun also tried to get him to join in their drinking - again and again, until he finally caved. He had contemplated giving rum a second chance on the way here, after all - so why not give into that desire? What harm could it do?

“I suppose _one_ glass couldn’t hurt...” he finally relented.

As is often the case when it comes to alcohol, one glass turned into two, two turned into three and soon enough, Motonari was for the first time in his life well on his way to being really, truly _drunk_.

And like that, the hours passed.

x--x--x

“Sing. Ye should... sing somethin’ for us.”

The slurred suggestion had come practically out of the blue from one of the more inebriated members of the Rising Sun’s crew.

Motonari blinked sluggishly. The alcohol had left him feeling hazy and sort of dizzy, his usually so quick mind needing a moment or two to process the words and realize that they had indeed been addressed at him.

“Me? Sing?” he asked, pointing at himself and giggling in a way that he would utterly hate himself for in the morning.

“Yeah! You merfolk, yer got really nice singin’ voices, right? Thazz what the legends say. An’ I wanna hear it!”

The rest of the crew apparently thought hearing Motonari sing sounded like a fabulous idea, because it only took them a moment to start chanting: “Sing! Sing! Sing!”

It took a bit of convincing, but finally Motonari gave in to public demand. He pushed himself up from where he had been slumped against Motochika’s side, only managing to sit up straight with the pirate’s assistance.

It was true that all members of the merfolk were gifted with beautiful singing voices, but Motonari did not consider himself much of a singer.

If he had been sober right now, he would have never agreed to sing.

_Ever._

It was another thing he would regret terribly in the morning, but still Motonari found himself closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. Through the haze of alcohol clouding his memories, he searched for a song.

And then he opened his mouth.

x--x--x

Motochika prided himself on the fact that he was the most sober person left. Still very much drunk, but not as drunk as many of the others.

When Motonari agreed to sing against all expectations, Motochika found that he was doubly glad to be not _too_ drunk. Both because he would be able to appreciate the experience more fully like this, and also because it meant that he would _remember._

“ _There once was a mermaid lovely_  
 _Her hair a coral red_  
 _Who fell for a drowning human_  
 _Come winter she was dead.”_

Motonari had barely even sung the first few notes when Motochika decided that he _very_ much wanted to remember - every last second of it.

“ _Upon one summer’s morning_  
 _She carefully did stray_  
 _Up to the water’s surface_  
 _There was a price to pay.”_

The legends did not do the voices of the merfolk justice.

“ _She met a prince so handsome_  
 _His eyes as black as coal_  
 _She rescued him from drowning_  
 _Her love would bring its toll.”_

They didn’t do _Motonari_ justice.

“ _Her heart was pierced by Cupid_  
 _She disdained all glittering gold_  
 _There was nothing could console her_  
 _But her jolly prince so bold.”_

Motochika found himself utterly transfixed, his lips slightly parted as he listened in awe. The rest of the crew was faring no better, staring at the singing merman with starstruck expressions of utter admiration.

“ _She went to see the sea witch_  
 _To make a desperate wish_  
 _Neither did she want the scaly tail_  
 _Nor the soft fins of a fish.”_

It was a haunting melody - melancholic and yet so very soothing, Motonari’s voice smooth and pleasant. Never had Motochika heard anything more beautiful, and he doubted he would in the future.

“ _The witch she was quite wicked_  
 _Fulfilled the mermaid’s wish_  
 _And in return she took her voice_  
 _And then she told her this:_

_Each step you take will make you bleed_   
_You’ll always be in pain_   
_And if your prince won’t fall for you_   
_You’ll ne’er return again.”_

The meaning of the words barely registered in Motochika’s mind, but when they did, he found it odd that Motonari could look so serene while singing such a sad song. Serene, and so very beautiful - there was no denying it now.

“ _Six months the mermaid bore it all_  
 _For her jolly prince so bold_  
 _He smiled at her and danced with her_  
 _His eyes were never cold.”_

As if bewitched, Motochika kept his gaze fixed on Motonari’s lips, intensely watching the way they moved as they formed the words to the song. He had to swallow, his throat suddenly terribly dry.

“‘ _Til the day she spied a young girl_  
 _With a voice like precious gold_  
 _Reclining on the bosom_  
 _Of her jolly prince so bold.”_

Entranced, Motochika watched as Motonari tilted his head back a little, eyes opening. From beneath dark eyelashes, the merman sorrowfully stared up at star-filled sky as the song drew to a close.

_“There once was a mermaid lovely_  
 _Who wandered, wept and moaned_  
 _She let the sea embrace her_  
‘ _Cause her jolly prince, he... won’t...”_

At the last few words, Motonari had turned his head to lock gazes with Motochika, his voice trailing off softly. The look on his face was indescribable and impossible to read. Motochika would have given all his treasure and all his riches to know what it meant, but one thing was certain: it made his heart beat fast.

Motonari parted his lips again as if to speak, turning his upper body more fully towards Motochika. The pirate tensed in anticipation.

But then Motonari stopped and frowned, an odd look flitting across his features.

“...I think I’m going to be sick.”

And with no more warning than that, the merman proceeded to violently empty the contents of his stomach all over the poor, unsuspecting pirate.

Needless to say, that _very_ much broke the spell that Motochika had been under.

They called it a night after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Motonari’s song is obviously set to the tune of ‘My Jolly Sailor Bold’. The lyrics are sort of a mash-up between Disney’s The Little Mermaid and the original Little Mermaid story - you know, the angsty one. It also serves as foreshadowing of sorts I suppose?
> 
> Ooh - foreshadowing.


	7. Ebb and Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Under orders of King Hideyoshi himself Motonari meets with Motochika again, the promised treasure in tow. There is much teasing and drinking, leading to a drunk Motonari proving all legends about the voices of the merfolk true - and also proving that he cannot hold his liquor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t play chess. Keep that in mind when you read a certain scene in this chapter.

Someone had taken a blade to his head and tried to split his skull apart.

That was the only reasonable explanation Motonari could come up with for the debilitating ache in his head. Somehow, it even managed to be worse than the time he had taken a blow to the head during the Saika Faction’s attack.

The merman groaned and attempted to sit up.

He regretted it immediately.

The world was spinning in a way that was positively nauseating. Everything was so bright that it sent another sharp sting of pain through his head, so he quickly squeezed his eyes shut again. His body was revolting against him, stomach acid trying to force its way up his throat. Motonari slapped a hand over his mouth and swallowed it back down with a shudder.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so wretched.

Motonari allowed himself a few more moments to adjust to the feeling of being awake and utterly hung over - a very new and unwelcome experience for the brunet merman - before he carefully gave opening his eyes another shot.

It was better this time.

Still so bright it made him want to crawl into the darkest corner of some underwater cave and hide there for a week, but decidedly better than before.

With his mind unfamiliarly sluggish, Motonari attempted to comprehend where he was and how he had gotten there. Blearily, he eyed his surroundings. A powerful sense of déjà vu overcame him. He had only been here once before, but he still found that he recognized the room with ease.

It was Motochika’s cabin.

Motonari was back in the barrel, his lower half submerged in water and his upper body leaning against the wooden edge. It was not exactly a comfortable position to sleep in, but he supposed it was preferable to the beach where he would have dried out sooner or later.

Now he at least knew _where_ he was. Now, as for the question of how he had _gotten_ there...

The door flew open with a bang that Motonari thought might just have shattered his eardrums and in came the man he suspected was responsible for bringing him here.

“Rise and shine!” Motochika said so cheerfully that Motonari felt there should be laws against it. His pet parrot was perched on his shoulder, loudly squawking as if to agree with its master.

Not for the first time, Motonari seriously contemplated murdering the captain of the Rising Sun. He could strangle him perhaps, or maybe he could stuff that parrot down his throat to choke him. It would be like killing two birds with one stone... One an actual bird, and the other a birdbrain. It seemed fitting.

But to do that he would have to move, and moving seemed an entirely unattractive prospect to Motonari right now.

“Shut up and be _quiet_ ,” Motonari hissed instead of committing cold-blooded double murder. He buried his face in his arms to block out the light of the midday sun and mumbled a string of rather uncharacteristic curses under his breath.

“Had a bit too much to drink last night, didn’t you?” Motochika asked rhetorically. Motonari could feel him coming closer, his footsteps sounding like thunder to his ears. “Don’t worry, I’ve got something that might help.”

Motonari just moaned rather pitifully, burrowing his face more firmly in his arms. Motochika was the _last_ person he wanted to deal with right now, whether he promised him relief or not.

He heard the cupboard being opened and then there was the sound of glass clinking against glass. It should have been quiet enough, but to Motonari it felt as if someone had rammed a saw fish straight through his skull and directly into his brain.

“Here, drink this,” Motochika said, now standing next to the barrel. “It’s my patented hangover cure. Works like a charm.”

To let in as little light as possible, Motonari opened his eyes only slightly, peering at the offered glass through the thin slit between his eyelids. He felt too sluggish to be suspicious of the unknown liquid, taking the glass from Motochika without even asking what was in it.

“What happened last night...?” he asked as he carefully sat up a little straighter.

“You don’t remember?”

Motonari attempted to shake his head but quickly decided it was a bad idea. Holding the glass he had been given but not drinking from it yet, he said: “Only bits and pieces. It is all disconcertingly fuzzy, I’m afraid.”

Motochika laughed; the sound of it made Motonari’s head pound even worse. “Yeah, alcohol will do that to you. Especially when you’re not used to it. So, what _do_ you remember?”

The merman furrowed his brows, searching his scattered memories. “The fire. And bread on a stick. And--” He stopped himself abruptly, eyes going wide as a particularly mortifying memory came to the forefront of his mind. Groaning, he buried his face in one hand. “...I sang. I cannot believe that I _sang_.”

“It was quite impressive, actually,” Motochika said. “You could probably make a living off of that talent.”

Motonari again forced himself not to shake his head and said: “It is nothing special, and I certainly have no desire to do so either way. I am not prone to... behaving in such a manner under normal circumstances. It must have been an effect brought on by the consumption of rum.”

Motochika grinned wolfishly and nodded. “Yeah, alcohol does tend to make you do and say things you wouldn’t usually. Lowers your inhibitions, makes you more daring and all that.” Then he gestured towards the hangover cure he had given Motonari and asked: “Are you gonna drink that or not?”

Blinking owlishly, Motonari glanced down at the glass in his hand. “Ah,” he simply said before bringing the item to his lips with no further questions.

He really should have asked what this supposed ‘miracle cure’ was made of - if he had done so, he wouldn’t have had to spit it out again immediately.

Motonari made a gagging sound and hastily wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. He glared at Motochika with a look that could kill, very much not amused with the way that Motochika had started laughing.

“More rum?!” Motonari hissed in disbelief. “ _That’s_ your miracle solution?! How is _that_ going to help matters?!”

Still chuckling and with his eye gleaming with mirth, Motonari shrugged his shoulders and said: “Works for me!”

“I cannot believe this...” Motonari muttered in exasperation, pointedly handing the rum back to Motochika.

“You sure you don’t want it?” Motochika asked. “I know it seems odd, but it really _does_ help.”

Haughtily, Motonari replied: “No, thank you. After last night, I have no desire to make a fool of myself again any time soon.” The things he had done yesterday were appalling enough - the singing, the _giggling_... he also remembered leaning against the pirate, and that was perhaps the worst of it all.

Snorting in amusement, Motochika said: “Well, maybe it’s better this way. Can’t have you ruin my pants again, after all!”

Accompanied by a rush of mortification, the memory of throwing up on Motochika returned to Motonari. He moaned pitifully, very much trying to ignore the heat crawling up the back of his neck.

He just wanted to sink into the sea and hide... preferably forever.

x--x--x

Later in the day, after Motonari had eaten something and had had plenty of water to quench his horrible hangover induced thirst, Motochika finally made good on his promise to teach Motonari how to play chess.

They were out on the deck, on an elevated part of the ship that ensured them relative privacy while still allowing them to gaze down at the activities of the rest of the crew. The chess board had been set up on a wooden crate between them. Motochika and Motonari had taken their respective places on opposite sides of the makeshift table; the pirate lounging lazily on another, smaller crate and Motonari back in his barrel.

Much to his surprise, Motonari found that he was almost... well, perhaps not _happy_ , that would be going too far. But he was content at least, spending time with the pirate like this. The warmth of the afternoon sun was pleasant on his skin and he enjoyed the slight breeze playing with his hair. Not even his hangover could lessen the simple joy being up on the surface filled him with.

It certainly helped that chess was turning out to be even more fascinating a game than he had hoped.

The brunet merman listened with rapt attention as Motochika explained the rules to him, sometimes asking questions when he needed the pirate to clarify something for him. Motonari was innately quick on the uptake, but Motochika had the uncanny ability to explain things in such a convoluted manner that even Motonari had trouble following him at times.

“...and that’s about it, I think,” Motochika finally said, concluding his explanation. “Any questions?”

Shaking his head and with his gaze still fixed on the game board, Motonari replied: “None that I can think of at the moment...” His mind was already busy coming up with possible strategies based on what Motochika had told him about the game. He would still need to test them, of course. Theory only got you so far. Slowly, Motonari looked up to lock gazes with the pirate.

A wicked smile and a glint of challenge in a deep golden eye greeted him.

“So. Wanna give it a go?”

“I shall enjoy defeating you,” Motonari replied, meeting Motochika’s challenge with cool confidence.

The pirate grinned at that. “Bold words, my friend,” he said, taking hold of the game board and turning it around so that the side with the white pieces was facing Motonari. “As a reward for your courage, I’ll let you have the advantage of starting. You’ll need it.”

Motonari gave a haughty sniff and made his opening move, stone meeting stone with a quiet click as he put his pawn down. “You underestimate my learning curve, pirate.”

“And you underestimate me, period,” Motochika said, moving one of his own pawns. “There’s more to me than dumb muscle, you know.”

Raising a delicate eyebrow at Motochika, Motonari said: “We shall see if there is truth to that.” By the tone of his voice it was obvious he very much doubted it. Motochika merely smiled indulgently, and Motonari did not like the sight of it.

More than ever, he was determined to win this.

Silence descended over them, only broken by the sound of pieces being moved across the board. True to his words, Motonari caught on quickly - despite the fact that he had never played before, he and Motochika were still evenly matched, neither of them able to wrest the advantage from the other.

Still, Motonari was confident it was only a matter of time before he found a way to lure the pirate into a trap.

As he took one of Motochika’s pawns, Motonari decided it was time to put a diversion tactic or two into play. Casually, he asked: “So, tell me. Did you find the spy?”

Motochika’s hand froze where it had been about to reach for a rook, and Motonari was pleased to see the baffled look on the pirate’s face. He stayed like that for a few moments, frowning at Motonari before he returned his attention back to the chess board. “What spy?” he asked evenly, and to his credit he managed to sound every bit as casual as Motonari.

“Surely the idea occurred to you, after the attack of the Saika Faction?” Motonari replied, carefully scanning the board before deciding on a move, taking another one of Motochika’s pieces.

“No way. There’s _no way_ there’s a spy amongst my men,” Motochika said firmly, setting a piece down with slightly more force than necessary.

“So it was pure chance that led them to find you in the middle of the ocean and surround you so effectively? Awfully convenient, don’t you think?” Motonari counted on his words to further agitate the pirate and hopefully throw him off his game. “Even you cannot be so blind.”

“My crew wouldn’t betray me like that,” Motochika said, glaring across the board at Motonari. It was his turn but he wasn’t even looking at the board.

“And yet there must be a traitor among your men,” Motonari said, meeting Motochika’s one-eyed glare with a calm, composed look.

There was a long pause, Motochika’s face pinched and unhappy and Motonari’s a blank mask.

It was Motonari who broke their silent stare down.

“It’s your move, Chosokabe.”

Motochika shook his head as if to shake off unpleasant thoughts and said with conviction: “Ridiculous. My men are loyal.” He picked a piece seemingly at random and made a move that Motonari found delightfully ill-advised.

“There can be no other explanation,” he said, continuing to push.

“You’re wrong. You think you know it all, but truth is, you know nothing about my crew,” Motochika said heatedly. He barely took the time to think before he made his next move, aggressively taking one of Motonari’s pieces when playing defensively would have been the better choice.

A small smile tugged at the corners of the merman’s lips, unnoticed by the pirate. Things were going according to plan: Motochika’s emotions were getting the best of him, clouding his judgement. And Motonari was free to steer him where he wanted him to go by offering up sacrificial pawns for Motochika to take his anger out on.

It was almost laughably easy.

Who knew that the infamous White Sea Devil of the West would so readily allow himself to be manipulated like this?

“I need not know your crew to understand human nature,” Motonari said evenly.

Motochika scoffed and made another rash decision on the chessboard. “What does a merman know about human nature?”

“Enough to understand that deceit and betrayal are just as common among your kind as they are among mine.”

“My crew is different,” Motochika insisted, digging himself a deeper hole with every move. “I hand-picked them. They are loyal, honest men.”

“You are a naive fool to think so, Chosokabe.”

“And you a hopeless pessimist.”

“I prefer the term realist.”

“A realist? No. An embittered, lonely cynic? _Yes._ ”

“Say what you will, it does nothing to change--”

Motonari froze, his hand hovering in empty air. His eyes were wide in disbelief, the first sign of real emotion he had displayed ever since he had started goading Motochika into making one mistake after another.

The merman tore his gaze from the board with difficulty and looked at Motochika - only to find the pirate leaning back on his crate, a wide grin on his face and his body language relaxed. A far cry from the tense, defensive anger he had shown before.

“Checkmate,” the White Sea Devil of the West said with obvious pleasure.

Motonari was reeling.

“ _How--_ ” he hissed, then caught himself and snapped his gaze back down to the game board.

He mentally replayed the game, scanned the little black and white tiles, studied the remaining pieces on the board and counted the pieces that had been taken. He tried to figure out what had happened, where he had gone wrong - and then he suddenly understood.

The answer was not to be found on the board at all.

Motonari loosened the white-knuckled grip he’d had on the edges of the crate they were using as a table. He raised his head slowly, and when he looked at Motochika, he looked past the unruly hair and the obnoxious eye patch and the irritating grin.

He could not believe what he saw underneath it all; did not want to believe it.

“Just so you know...” Motochika began casually, and Motonari narrowed his eyes because he did not like that tone. “There is no spy. After the attack, one of my men came forward. He’s got a loose tongue when he’s had too much to drink, and he never could resist a pretty face. Confessed he said some things when we were docking at Noshima that should’ve been left unsaid. Word reached the Saika Faction, and well. You know the rest.”

It was a plausible scenario.

Motonari only had one issue with that explanation, and that was Motochika’s angry reaction to his insinuations about a potential spy. Why get angry if you already knew there was no spy? There was no good reason for it. Unless, of course, Motochika had realized Motonari was trying to get under his skin... and had then decided to fake his anger, to let Motonari believe his manipulations were working, to lull him into a false sense of security – only to strike back when he least expected it.

The pirate had caught onto Motonari’s plan and instead of calling him out on it, he had decided to beat him at his own game.

Motonari was almost impressed.

“You _toyed_ with me,” Motonari said at last, and it was the closest he would get to admitting he had been tricked.

“You toyed with me first,” Motochika said, for once not smiling.

It was the hard look in his single gold eye that made Motonari realize that the anger the human had displayed earlier may have been not quite as fake as he had assumed. Motochika _had_ been angry, he just had not been offended that Motonari would insinuate there might be a spy among his crew. No, he had been offended that Motonari would resort to intentionally trying to ruin his concentration to gain an unfair advantage.

The White Sea Devil of the West did not react well to attempted trickery, it appeared, and if tested he was vicious enough to respond in kind.

It was something to keep in mind for future reference.

“And the sudden increase in skill?” Motonari could not help but ask. They had been so evenly matched in the beginning, and then Motochika had unexpectedly shown previously unknown potential.

The pirate still wasn’t smiling.

“You weren’t playing fair,” he said, golden gaze boring into Motonari’s. “So I guess I decided I wouldn’t either.”

Motonari took a moment to process that, brows set in an unhappy frown. So Motochika’s idea of playing fair was to match his level of play to that of his opponent? It just didn’t sit well with him. In fact, he could not help but feel insulted. “So you went easy on me, in the beginning.”

Motochika shrugged. “I figured, no sense in slaughtering a weaker opponent.“ Motonari bristled at the hit to his pride. “There’s no honour in beating down a beginner. No fun to be had, either.”

“And so you decided to hold back – until your temper got the best of you, that is,“ Motonari summarized. Losing in such a spectacular fashion was bad enough, but knowing Motochika had felt the need to go easy on him was utterly humiliating. There was only one thing he could think of that might make the situation worse. Spitting the words out like something truly distasteful, Motonari said: “Tell me one thing, pirate. Were you planning to let me _win?_ ”

He got a snort and a shake of Motochika’s head in response. “Nah,“ the pirate said. “I’m not gonna let you win intentionally. You’ll have to beat me fair and square.“

Annoyed and increasingly impatient with the pirate’s baffling inconsistencies, Motonari asked: “Then what was the point of going easy on me? Why bother?“

“I was teaching you,“ was the simple reply – as if that should have been obvious.

Truly irritated now, Motonari snapped: “And what exactly was not playing properly supposed to teach me? How to play _poorly?”_

“That wasn’t playing poorly,“ Motochika said, his own irritation evident in the way he crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at the merman disapprovingly. “Look, you’re good. Scary good, considering that was your first time playing. But the dirty tricks? That’s gonna have to stop.”

Motonari only gave him a frosty look for his troubles.

“I’m serious,“ Motochika said. “You obviously do that a lot. Play dirty, I mean. Manipulate people, get under their skin. Sooner or later, that’s gonna blow up in your face and it’s not gonna be pretty.“

“I do not recall asking for your advice,” Motonari said, summoning a look of haughty contempt to his face with practised ease.

“Yeah well, you still got it anyway. Free of charge and everything, consider yourself lucky,” Motochika said, somewhere between joking and serious. “’Cause I get the feeling you never ask anyone for advice, and maybe you should. One of your merfolk buddies maybe; surely you at least value their opinion if not mine?”

Motonari thought about Hanbei and he thought about Yoshitsugu, and then he thought about Tsuruhime. With a derisive snort, he said: “Hardly.”

Motochika shook his head and looked at Motonari with an unreadable look on his face that made the merman vaguely uncomfortable – not that he showed it, obviously. “That’s gotta be lonely,” he muttered, quietly enough that Motonari felt it could be easily ignored.

A few moments passed in awkward, tense silence, with Motochika still giving Motonari that _look_ and Motonari returning it with a stony, closed-off expression. Finally, Motochika decided to dispel the weird tension building between them and said with an easy grin: “So, what do you people do for fun? You can’t all be such sticks in the mud.”

Motonari recognized a peace offering when he heard one, even when it was wrapped up in teasing words. And truth be told, he had no desire to continue their earlier conversation either way. He relaxed.

“I imagine our ways of entertaining ourselves cannot be so different from yours. We read and we write, and we—“ Motonari began to say but was stopped by Motochika.

“Wait. You _read?_ How does that work?” the pirate asked. “You got some special kind of paper that doesn’t turn soggy under water?”

The merman frowned, thinking back to the time he had seen Motochika write in his cabin. “I assume ‘paper’ refers to the medium humans write on?” When the pirate nodded, Motonari went on to explain: “Below the surface, we carve important information into stone tablets. Alternatively, there are also certain plants that if woven together tightly make for a suitable surface to write on.”

“What, like some sort of underwater papyrus?” Motochika asked.

“Perhaps,” Motonari replied.

“Huh. Well, the more you know…” the human said and then apparently remembered his original question. “So, what else? You don’t drink, you proved that much yesterday. But surely you’ve got your own ways of…” He grinned, and raised an eyebrow suggestively. “…unwinding?”

Feeling a little exasperated with the pirate, Motonari shook his head. “I suppose there are extracts from certain plants as well as the venom of certain fish that result in a state of euphoria… There are those amongst the merfolk who like to indulge. Naturally, I prefer to abstain.”

“Naturally,” Motochika repeated, laughing. “Maybe you should give it a go. You know, every once in awhile. Just to loosen up. You’re far too serious. Live a little!”

Motonari sneered. “It dulls your mind, and with extended use destroys it. Forgive me if I am unwilling to take that risk.”

“Yeah, can’t have that mind of yours destroyed,” Motochika said, reaching across the chessboard to tap a finger against Motonari’s forehead. The merman scowled and drew back. “It’s your one redeeming quality, after all,” he continued, but he was smiling, the humour glinting in his eye making it obvious he was only joking.

“Better one redeeming quality than none at all,” Motonari countered quickly, much to Motochika’s delight.

“See, this is fun,” the pirate said, gesturing back and forth between them. “Blunt and honest, none of that trying to trick each other business, no dirty tricks. That’s the way I like it.”

“Only because you are such a simpleton,” Motonari replied, but he was almost smiling. Because much as he wanted to deny it, this _was_ enjoyable.

“Evidently not,” Motochika shot back, grinning widely as he pointed down at the chess board. “Or else I wouldn’t have wiped the floor with you the way I did, now would I?”

Motonari gave a haughty little ‘harrumph’ and turned up his nose in a way that could almost be considered playful – for him, that is. “Intelligence does not factor into it, it was your experience alone that allowed you to win. You will not have that advantage in the future. I am a quick learner, as I’ve already told you.”

“Is that supposed to be a challenge, then?” Motochika asked, his grin still in place and his eye narrowed almost in a predatory fashion.

“If you wish to take it as such,” Motonari replied evenly, but there was a spark of interest in his own gaze.

“Great, time for a rematch then,” Motochika said and wasted no time in putting the game pieces back into their proper spots. Motonari helped and they were almost done when one of Motochika’s men approached them.

“Cap’n, sorry ta interrupt, but we got ourselves a situation down in the magazine… if ya could come and take a look, perhaps?”

Motochika shot Motonari an apologetic look. “Guess I better go. If something’s happened with the gunpowder, that’s trouble.” He stood and clapped the man that had come to get him on the back. “Fill in for me, will you? And don’t go easy on him; Mori’s good.”

The man looked caught off guard and a little lost when Motochika excused himself and left without him. He stared after his captain’s retreating back for a moment before shaking his head, bemused. “Right, so,” he said as he sat down. “Name’s Tadasumi. Tani Tadasumi.”

Motonari felt he should recognize the man from last night, but he didn’t. Everyone had been loud and drunk and entirely forgettable, as far as he was concerned. Still, he politely inclined his head in greeting. “Mori Motonari.”

“Yeah, I remember. Not like the Cap’n’d let us forget,” Tadasumi said as he finished setting up the pieces. Then he asked: “You play before?”

The question earned him a look that might as well have announced out loud and in no uncertain terms what Motonari thought of the man’s intelligence. "Once," the merman said, raising an eyebrow. Tadasumi had interrupted Motochika and him as they had been about to go for a second round; surely it should be obvious to him that Motonari had played before.

“So you know how ta play, then?” the man went on and Motonari fought hard not to roll his eyes.

“ _Obviously,_ ” he said, rather pointedly.

Tadasumi had the gall to smirk widely at that. The expression pulled strangely at an old scar travelling from his chin all the way up to his right ear. “Yeah, no kiddin’,” he said, and Motonari had no idea what he was talking about. “The Cap’n sure was right about _you._ ”

The merman had barely opened his mouth to ask what exactly the pirate meant to imply by that before Tadasumi spoke again. He gestured towards the chess board sitting between them and said: “Go on, then. You get the opening move, _Mori Motonari_.”

Motonari remembered how Motochika had done the same thing: allowed Motonari the first move because he felt the merman would need the advantage. With brown eyes narrowed in irritation, he silently reached for one of the pieces and set it down with a decisive ‘click’ of stone on stone.

His actions would speak louder than any words he could have spoken in reply. Mori Motonari was nothing if not ambitious, and he was determined to utterly crush Tani Tadasumi.

And then, much to his satisfaction, he proceeded to do exactly that.

Twice.

x--x--x

The sun had long since passed its zenith and was well on its way to melt into the horizon when Motochika found Motonari again.

After he had given Tani Tadasumi a sound thrashing on the chessboard – partially repairing his wounded ego in the process – Motonari had asked to be moved to the bow of the ship. There he had spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin and watching the waves created by the hull of the Rising Sun. Motochika’s parrot, Kiromaru, had kept him company for a while before taking off to chase after any seagulls that came too close to the ship.

The merman was deeply lost in thought, but not deeply enough that he didn’t notice Motochika coming up behind him. The wooden planks creaked, and the presence of another body beside his was unmistakable. Motochika stood next to him, his hand reaching around him to grip the opposite side of the barrel, arm close to his back.

“Is that what made you come back?” Motochika asked, prompting Motonari to glance at him from the corner of his eyes. “The sun, I mean.”

Motonari turned his gaze back to the sky, where the clouds were tinted pink and purple by the light of the setting sun. Close to the horizon, the sky appeared to be on fire, shades of red and orange bleeding into one another. And above it all, what had once been a clear bright blue was slowly turning into a deep indigo dotted with the first stars of the evening.

“It’s… breathtaking,” Motonari said, with more genuine amazement than he had intended to reveal.

Beside him, Motochika smiled. “Yeah, it is,” he agreed, voice less gruff than usual, softer somehow. “Never get tired of looking at it. You should see it rise, all the way up on a mountain top. Now _that’s_ a sight for sore eyes. I’ll show you one day.”

Motonari’s lips twitched but he got his expression back under control before he could smile properly. With a raised eyebrow but not much heat to his words, he said: “Don’t be foolish, Chosokabe. How do you even plan to transport me all the way to the top of a mountain? Surely you don’t intend to carry a barrel of water that far.”

Motochika turned to him and grinned. “I’ll think of something. Consider it a promise.”

“Best not make any promises you cannot keep,” Motonari chided, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, I’ve got every intention of keeping that promise,” Motochika insisted, grin not fading. “Trust me; I always stick to my word.”

Motonari merely gave a non-committal hum in reply. Then he said: “It’s true seeing the sun again played a large part in my decision to return.” He did not mention that if it had not been for King Hideyoshi’s orders, he might not have come to the surface again at all. Thinking of the King reminded Motonari he had a mission to accomplish, and while he was not technically lying, there was an ulterior motive when he said: “That and I found myself grudgingly intrigued by your world.”

Motochika chuckled. “I knew that’d be incentive enough to keep you coming back for more.” He turned around so his back was leaning against the railing of the ship. With his forearms resting on the wood, he looked at Motonari. “So, shoot. What do you wanna know?”

For a moment, Motonari considered where to start. Then he said: “You mentioned checking on something called ‘gunpowder’ earlier…”

“Yeah, there was a bit of a mishap; some of it got wet. We’ll have to stock up soon or we’ll run out if there’s another attack,” the pirate said.

“So it’s something to do with combat,” Motonari said, pleased that he’d stumbled upon a topic relevant to King Hideyoshi’s interests so quickly. “What exactly is it used for?”

“See that?” Motochika said, pointing at a large metal tube of sorts that Motonari had wondered about before. It was painted bright red and rather hard to miss. Sounding proud, Motochika continued: “That’s the main cannon. We’ve got a bunch of smaller ones too, but this one is the biggest. It’s a devastating long distance weapon. You load it up with gunpowder and a heavy cannon ball – aim well, then fire and watch as a single direct hit in a critical spot sinks an entire ship.”

Understanding dawned on Motonari as he made the connection between Motochika’s description of cannons and what he had experienced during the attack of the Saika Faction.

“Fascinating,” Motonari said, studying the massive cannon standing proud against the backdrop of the ever darkening sky.

It was exactly the kind of weapon King Hideyoshi would be interested in acquiring – and exactly the kind of weapon Motonari knew he could not afford falling into the King’s hands if he ever wished to overthrow him and regain control over Aki. He resolved to lie to Hanbei about his findings – truthfully, that had always been his intention – and find a way of using the information for his own personal gain.

Recalling something that Motochika had said, Motonari tore his gaze from the main cannon and turned to lock eyes with the pirate. “You said some of the gunpowder got wet and as a result you needed to restock? I take it wet gunpowder is of no use?”

“Yeah, it won’t ignite properly. No ignition, no force propelling the cannon ball forward,” Motochika said. “No cannon ball, no ship sinking.”

“I see,” Motonari said, the gears in his head already turning. If gunpowder was useless when wet, firing human made cannons under water would be impossible. But if Motonari could find a way to replicate the mechanism by using a different substance to propel the cannon ball forward…

Alternatively, perhaps it would be wise not to waste his energy trying to create waterproof cannons. Perhaps he should be focusing on acquiring human cannons instead.

It was not unheard of for what he now knew to be stray cannon balls to sink to the bottom of the sea and cause structural damage to the buildings of the merfolk. With a large enough fleet and a well-coordinated plan of attack, Motonari was sure he could wipe out entire cities just by firing cannonballs into the water in strategic places – to cut off the food supply, for instance.

While he was still turning the concept over in his mind, Motonari kept the conversation alive by saying: “Is there not a more foolproof option? You are surrounded by water; it seems strange you would rely on a weapon that is useless when wet.”

The smile Motochika gave Motonari was somewhat crooked. “If you come up with a better solution, I’m all ears,” he said teasingly. “Usually, it’s not an issue. We make damn sure to keep the magazine bone-dry; same as the place we keep the sails so they don’t rot.” He shrugged. “But well, accidents happen.”

They changed the topic soon after that, turning their attention to matters less likely to expose Motonari’s true intentions. Motonari felt it was a pleasant enough way to spend an evening – certainly more enjoyable than spending time below the surface would have been, surrounded by people he could not stand and forced to live with constant reminders of Hideyoshi’s rise to power.

Better yet, conversing with Motochika like this gave him the chance to pick up harmless tidbits of information he could feed to Hanbei, useful enough to appease the King’s right-hand man but not useful enough to put Motonari’s own plans at risk.

All in all, Motonari considered the day a success.

x--x--x

 

The next few days passed in much the same manner.

Motonari asked carefully worded questions whenever he could, intending to memorize all information relevant to his cause. In the end, he memorized far more than that. More and more, his curiosity was getting the best of him and he found himself asking about things he would have classified as irrelevant only a few days ago. There was so much to learn, and the more he heard, the more he found himself fascinated.

They played chess again as well – several times in fact, and with every game Motochika had to try harder and Motonari came closer to winning. The crew had taken to watching their games whenever they had the time, and Motonari had to admit he enjoyed the increasingly admiring whispers and looks he was getting. They were nothing but a bunch of humans, pirates at that, and therefore proving his cunning to them should not be important to him – but for some strange reason, it was.

It was on the morning of the third day that Motonari requested to take a look at the books Motochika kept in his cabin. The pirate was needed on deck and left him with a small selection of books to peruse at his leisure.

It was after Motochika had left that Motonari opened the first book at random… only to realize that the written word of humans differed a great deal from that of the merfolk.

Odd, considering they spoke nearly the same language, with the exception of certain words that were exclusive to one language. Then again, perhaps it was not so surprising after all. Human paper did not survive long under water and anything the merfolk did not carve into stone became nigh unreadable when it dried out. Exchanging written information would have been practically impossible for their ancestors, so their written word must have developed independently of one another.

This still begged the question why their spoken language was so similar. Contact between merfolk and mankind was a rare thing. Motonari wondered if this similarity was indication for a common ancestor or if it meant there had once been a time when humans and merfolk had lived alongside one another in close contact. None of the stories he had heard as a child quite matched either theory.

Perhaps he should ask Motochika for mankind’s side of the story, but he rather doubted doing so would yield anything useful. Judging by the crew’s reaction to finding Motonari in their net, mermaids and mermen were nothing but the stuff of legends to them. Of course, they were pirates and hardly what you might call scholars… so perhaps there was something of interest to be found in the archives on the mainland that Motochika had told him about…

At some point during his musings, Motonari had reached for a small stack of untouched paper and had begun to try and decode human writing. The only thing he had to go on was an assortment of strange, half-remembered symbols he had seen on sunken treasure. He now recognized these symbols as human letters.

He hit a wall far more quickly than he would have liked and soon he was just guessing, filling page after page with tentative attempts at translation.

It was like this that Motochika found him: bent over the table, books and papers spread before him and a frown of concentration on his face. His fingers were stained with ink – human quills were terribly unwieldy, if you asked him – and there was a smudge of the substance on his cheek as well which he was entirely unaware of.

Motochika came to the table and stood beside Motonari’s barrel, silently inspecting the results of Motonari’s attempts at deciphering. Motonari’s hand stilled, a quickly growing blotch of ink appearing where his quill was still touching the paper.

Finally, the pirate spoke.

“You can’t actually read any of that stuff, can you?” he asked, and his mirth was audible in his voice.

Motonari tensed, then sighed and relaxed, setting down the quill. He said: “It would appear your kind and mine have developed significantly different symbols to write things down. I attempted to translate… with little luck, as you can plainly see.”

“Don’t let it get to you,” Motochika said, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Motonari. “Most of the crew can’t read what’s written in any of these books either. In fact, not that many of them can read, period.”

Motonari thought there was nothing odd about that – down below the surface, the poor and those living in rural areas could also barely sign their own name, much less read. Already knowing the answer, he said: “But you can?”

“Well, yeah. That’s why I’m the captain,” Motochika said with an easy grin. “It’s not that common among pirates.”

Motonari cocked his head to the side. “Who taught _you_ , then?”

Motochika’s smile froze a little, and Motonari thought he might have struck a nerve. “My mother was a smart woman; she taught me the basics,” he answered. Then he shrugged, and added: “The rest I pretty much picked up myself.”

Something about the way the human had said that made Motonari suspect there was a little more to the story than that. While he was still contemplating whether he should pry or not, Motochika took it upon himself to make the decision for him.

“Tell you what,” the pirate said. “If you’re interested, I’ll teach you how to read. What do you say?”

“I’d like that,” Motonari said, already thinking about all the advantages he would gain by learning how to read human texts.

“Great,” Motochika said and his grin was perhaps just a little too pleased. Motonari’s suspicions that things would not be as simple as that were confirmed when the pirate leaned forward and added: “Of course, nothing’s free in this world. You give and you take. Equivalent exchange and all that.”

Motonari nodded, having expected as much. “And what would you have me give in return?”

A quick, wicked grin flashed across Motochika’s face, then he said: “What every pirate wants: treasure.”

“Of course,” the merman said, rolling his eyes. “That should be simple enough.”

“Let’s make it a regular thing then,” Motochika suggested, smiling winningly. “We meet, you bring me my treasure, I teach you whatever you want to know, and then we play chess. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. Sound good?”

Motonari had no reason to reject Motochika’s offer, and every reason to accept.

“It’s worth considering,” he said after pretending to think the idea over.

Motochika’s smile widened impossibly. “So that’s a yes then,” he said, and it was a statement, not a question.

Motonari said nothing – the hint of a smile on his face said it all.

x—x—x 

It did not take long for a routine of sorts to form.

Every other week or so Motonari would make his way to the surface where the crew and captain of the Rising Sun would already be waiting for him. At first the visits were short and he would stay just long enough to exchange information for valuables, but as time went by he began staying for days at a time.

Motochika made good on his promise to teach Motonari how to read human texts and in return Motonari told him stories of King Hideyoshi’s conquests. Motonari learned many things about life on land and once or twice he found himself wishing he could see it for himself.

Giving Hanbei just enough information to satisfy him without giving away too much was a precarious balancing act every time he was asked to report on what he had learned, but Motonari was no stranger to carefully worded half-truths and deception. He could tell Hanbei suspected he was withholding information, but for now the white-haired merman was letting him get away with it and continued funding Motonari’s trips to the surface.

And like that, the days passed. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and before long it had been nearly half a year since that fateful day Motonari had gotten tangled up in Motochika’s net. Their lives had become a constant, comfortable ebb and flow of time spent apart and time spent together.

Until the day that everything changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tani Tadasumi was an actual retainer of the Chosokabe clan and is one of the allies available in the game. Other allies and retainers will probably be referenced later on in the story, because I can’t just keep calling them all ‘the man with the x’.


	8. Something Old, Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: In the aftermath of a night filled with too much drinking, Motonari experiences the dreadfulness of a hangover. Later, Motochika teaches him how to play chess and Motonari learns that there is more to the pirate than meets the eye. They fall into a routine: Motonari brings Motochika treasure in exchange for information, followed by chess.

It started innocuously enough.

On a day like any other, Motochika and Motonari sat across from one another in the pirate’s cabin, bent over a game of chess. It had become a regular occurrence over the past few months – almost a ritual, one that they both enjoyed.

The game board technically belonged to Motonari now, Motochika having made good on his promise to give it to the merman. But the pirate held onto it whenever Motonari had to return to King Hideyoshi’s castle. Prolonged exposure to salt water would quickly ruin the wood of the frame and make the hinges rusty. It was best to keep it on the ship, where it was dry and relatively safe.

Motonari had quickly caught up to Motochika in terms of skill, and after a while, he even managed to surpass the pirate. Of course, he had expected as much. What he had not expected was for Motochika to keep surprising him.

Going by strategic skill and tactical genius alone, Motonari should have been the superior player. But every once in a while, Motochika would show terrifying insight and make a seemingly inane move the significance of which Motonari did not understand until it was too late.

He suspected the pirate acted more on instinct than anything else in those moments. His intuition was ingenious. And sometimes, there was an unconventional, creative edge to his thinking that Motonari just could not compete with.

Motochika had a gift for finding solutions to problems and putting them into action without even _noticing_ it consciously. An unexpected leap of logic here, a surprising mental twist there – always something that Motonari was unable to analyse because it was just so inherently different from his way of thinking.

It kept their games interesting and a challenge each and every time. Victory was not guaranteed for Motonari and he had been surprised to find that he preferred it that way.

Their game had just reached a crucial stage when there was a knock on Motochika’s door.

“Come in,” the pirate called absent-mindedly, his gaze still focused on the board.

The door opened and two men stepped in, carrying a large wooden chest overflowing with treasure. Even with Motonari occasionally bringing them gold and jewellery in exchange for information, the crew of the Rising Sun continued to acquire riches in tried and true pirate fashion: by pillaging and plundering.

“Finished cleaning it all, Cap’n,” one of the men said. And indeed the treasure practically glowed, polished to perfection. “Sorry to disturb, we’re just gonna put it down over there an’ be on our way…”

Perhaps if Motochika had understood the concept of cleanliness and the advantages of tidying up after yourself, the men would have succeeded in their goal. As it was, one of them tripped over one of the various odds and ends littering the captain’s floor. Accompanied by twin curses, the chest tipped over and its contents made a new home for themselves on the ground.

Startled out of his concentration by the noise, Motochika got up to help his men put everything back inside.

“Cap’n, so sorry, we’ll—“

“It’s alright, men. No harm done. Here, let me just…”

Motonari only glanced briefly at the mess, still far more interested in their interrupted game. He turned his attention to the board again, returning to his scheming – only to abruptly snap his head back around.

There, on the floor, lying innocently amongst all the other treasure was something so valuable, so precious that in comparison everything around it seemed to him like little more than worthless junk.

A piece of merfolk history – no, a piece of merfolk _legend_ come alive.

The Stone of Ascension.

Motonari’s mind was whirling and while he was still trying to decide if it was safe to trust his eyes, a large hand closed around the object, hiding it from view. Motochika had picked it up, about to toss it back into the chest with all the other treasure as if it were just another pretty bauble to be stored somewhere and forgotten.

“Wait!” Motonari called, louder than he had planned.

The other three stopped what they were doing and looked at him strangely. Motonari cleared his throat, quickly composing himself again. “May I take a look?” he asked, taking pride in how steady his hand was when he held it out to Motochika.

The pirate’s one visible eyebrow rose sharply. He glanced at the item in his hand and frowned, evidently seeing nothing special about it – certainly nothing that would warrant such a reaction. Then he shrugged and said: “I don’t see why not.”

Motonari’s heart nearly leapt out of his throat when the pirate carelessly tossed the requested object at him, but luckily he managed to catch it safely. As the human occupants of the room returned to their task, Motonari inspected his prize with trembling fingers.

It was an amulet, and any human looking at it would find it entirely unremarkable. Compared to the rest of the jewellery in the chest, it might even be considered plain. It was a simple, dull blue stone that hung from a thin metal chain. Oval in shape and not particularly large, the only thing that might make someone look at it twice was a ring of small ancient merfolk symbols etched into its frame.

For anyone unaware what it was, unaware of the _power_ it held, it truly did not look like much.

But Motonari recognized it. He _knew._

He had seen this very same amulet many times – in ancient paintings and murals, gracing the necks of the Kings and Queens of old. Many a legend surrounded it, the merfolk’s history scrolls full of speculation on its mysterious powers, its origin – and its sudden disappearance.

It seemed insane, to think that such an important, valuable artefact would pop up again here of all places, where Motonari was there to find it… but there was no doubt that it was genuine.

It just needed to be charged. Right now, the stone was dull when it should be a bright, shimmering blue. Someone needed to restore it to its former state, and Motonari knew just the person to ask.

“You really like it that much, huh?”

Motonari blinked and looked up to find himself alone with Motochika, the other pirates having left the room without him noticing.

Motochika was sitting the wrong way around on his chair, his arms resting on the back as he studied Motonari with a bemused expression. He looked as if he had been watching the merman for a while already.

A little flustered and trying to hide it, Motonari straightened up and said: “It’s beautiful.”

Motochika’s one visible eyebrow shot up at that. He took the amulet from Motonari – who was hesitant to part with it – and held it up to the light. “Hmm. Dunno. Looks pretty ordinary to me. Bit girly, maybe.”

Of course the pirate would be unable to recognize the true value of the object he held. It was only to be expected; Motonari rather doubted the legends surrounding the Stone of Ascension were known on the surface. It was all for the best, really. If Motochika was truly unaware of the amulet’s importance, it would be easier for Motonari to convince him to part with it. He only needed to play his cards right…

“Well, I happen to like it.”

Tossing the amulet into the air and catching it again effortlessly, Motochika said: “I didn’t figure you were the type to like jewellery.”

Motonari thought about the various bracelets and necklaces he had gotten from his secret admirer and had not worn even once. He said: “I’m not.”

Motochika looked at him weirdly before shaking his head. “Sometimes, I really don’t get you.” He inspected the amulet one last time, frowning. “It doesn’t look like it’s worth much… I guess you can have it.”

That said the pirate held the amulet out for Motonari to take, the stone dangling from its chain between them.

“ _Really?_ Just like that?” Motonari asked before he could stop himself, taken aback. That… had been a lot easier than he had assumed it would be.

For a moment or two he was too stunned to do anything, but then a wave of giddy excitement rose up inside him. The things he could do with that amulet… Even if the legends of its powers turned out to be untrue, the Stone of Ascension would still be an excellent bargaining chip at the very least. Shaking off his astonishment, Motonari reached for the amulet…

…only to have Motochika yank it away at the last second, a wolfish grin on his face.

“So it _is_ worth something!” the pirate crowed, casually spinning the amulet around on one finger. There was a wicked glint in his eye, and if Motonari had been familiar with the phrase, he likely would have compared the pirate’s expression to that of a cat that had just spotted a canary. “And judging by your reaction, this old rock is worth _rather a lot_.”

Motonari gaped, and when he realized Motochika had no intention of giving the amulet to him, he bristled in anger. “You _just_ said that I could have it! Are you going back on your word, _pirate_?”

“That was just a test,” Motochika said dismissively, and upon seeing the dark look the merman was giving him, he added: “What, you do it all the time!”

Scowling, Motonari said: “I should have known better than to think a pirate would willingly part with his treasure.”

“Guilty as charged,” Motochika said, looking irritatingly proud of himself.

Snidely, Motonari added: “Or that he would possess even an ounce of honour and integrity.”

“In my defence, I _was_ going to let you have it… But then I noticed _these_ ,” Motochika said, holding the amulet up with one hand and tracing the symbols etched into its frame with the other. “That’s mermish, right? It’s certainly no human language I’m familiar with, and travelling the seas, you pick up a lot.”

Silently cursing the pirate for noticing that, Motonari fought to compose himself. “Ancient mermish, if you must know.”

“So what, this thing some kind of long lost national treasure?”

“I suppose you could say that, yes.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Motochika said, nodding to himself. “You _did_ get pretty excited about it. Kind of cute, really.”

Deciding to ignore that last part, Motonari leant forward and stared hard at Motochika, willing him to listen. “I assure you, its sentimental value far outweighs its monetary value. On the surface, this amulet is worth _nothing_. But to the merfolk… having it returned to its rightful place would mean the world.”

Motochika just looked at him, his features set in a considering expression.

“I am not asking you to let me have it without proper payment in return,” Motonari tried, hoping against hope the pirate would bite if he promised him even more treasure.

“Another deal, then?” Motochika asked, intrigued.

“That is what I’m proposing, yes,” Motonari replied.

“Well, I’m never one to turn down a promising deal, you already know as much,” the pirate said cheerfully and Motonari released a breath he had not realized he’d been holding.

Motochika held out his hand for Motonari to take. The merman did so after a brief moment of hesitation, and they shook hands to confirm their agreement.

When Motonari attempted to pull back, Motochika tightened his grip and kept his hold on Motonari’s hand firm. The merman’s stomach did a curious little flip-flop at that. Motonari tensed up, suddenly hyper-aware of the contact.

“Bring me something good,” Motochika said, grinning.

“Have I ever disappointed you?” Motonari shot back.

In response to that, Motochika just laughed and finally released his hand. They finished their game of chess, and soon after that, it was time for Motonari to dive back into the sea.

x—x—x

As always, reporting the edited version of his findings to King Hideyoshi and Hanbei had been nothing short of exhausting.

Once upon a time, long, long before that fateful day he had first broken the surface, Motonari had enjoyed dancing around the truth and scheming right under Hanbei and the King’s noses. It had given him a chance to finally exert his considerable intelligence to its fullest potential, and initially, that had been exhilarating. Now, it only filled him with an intense longing for warmth and sunlight.

Thinking of the Rising Sun and its crew reminded Motonari of the one silver lining to his situation: soon, the Stone of Ascension would be his and with it unimaginable power. Ideally, enough power to overthrow the King and reclaim Aki as his own. Never again would he have to grovel before Hideyoshi or endure Hanbei’s mocking looks and smug little smiles.

There no longer would be a need to see Motochika – in fact, there would be _no time_ to see him.

That thought gave Motonari pause but before he could examine his mixed feelings on the matter too closely a shadow in the hallway to his left suddenly came alive.

Motonari stopped.

“What do you want?” he addressed the approaching shadow, irritated and hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Unsurprisingly, the shadow turned out to be none but Otani Yoshitsugu, slowly crawling towards Motonari on his many, many limbs.

“Despite what you may wrongfully believe, it is mere chance that led to our paths crossing tonight,” Yoshitsugu said with a slightly amused undertone.

Motonari said nothing and kept his suspicions to himself. It fell to Yoshitsugu to keep the conversation alive.

“I hope this evening finds you well, my friend.”

“As well as the circumstances allow,” Motonari replied pointedly, referring both to Yoshitsugu’s unwanted company and King Hideyoshi’s continued rule.

Yoshitsugu came a little closer; close enough that Motonari thought he could make out a faint hint of a smile underneath the seaweed bandages covering the other merman’s face. Motonari fought the urge to back away. He refused to show that he was uncomfortable with such proximity.

“Yes, I imagine it must be quite a chore, dealing with those dreadful pirates,” Yoshitsugu said with hollow sounding sympathy. He had deliberately misunderstood what Motonari had been implying, the brunet merman was sure of it. “They must bore you so, with their insipid little minds and their uncultured swaggering.”

“I manage,” Motonari said curtly, eyes narrowing into a glare. The sudden desire to defend the crew of the Rising Sun against Yoshitsugu’s comments was as intense as it was surprising, but he managed to hold his tongue. He had to keep up appearances.

“It has become such a woefully rare occurrence to see you gracing these halls with your presence. He does keep you ever so busy, does he not? That Captain, what was his name…”

“Chosokabe Motochika,” Motonari replied promptly, the name rolling off his tongue like second nature. Before he could think better of it, he added: “White Sea Devil of the West.”

“Ah, yes,” Yoshitsugu said, slowly, clearly not having needed the reminder. “ _Him.”_

Irritated by the tone Yoshitsugu had used to say that and offended at the possible implications, Motonari straightened his back defensively. He glared at Yoshitsugu, daring him to comment.

Yoshitsugu didn’t; instead he took his time letting his eyes slowly rove over Motonari’s body, studying him from the crown of his head all the way down to the tip of his fins. It made Motonari’s skin crawl, but he refused to let it show, meeting Yoshitsugu’s eyes with haughty contempt when their gazes locked again.

“You have changed, Mori,” Yoshitsugu said at last. “And I know not what to make of it.”

“Make of it what you will, but keep your conclusions to yourself,” Motonari replied icily. “I have no desire to hear them.”

“Come now, Mori. There is no need for such hostility. I am merely… _concerned_. Surely I need not tell you that I’m not the only one who has noticed? Must I remind you that you are being watched?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Motonari said. And for the benefit of anyone listening in, he added: “Of course, such scrutiny troubles me not. I am a loyal subject of the King. Now if you will excuse me, I’ve had a long day and I would like to rest.”

He was rewarded with raspy, painful sounding laughter. “You and I, we both know exactly where your loyalties lie.”

Motonari shot Yoshitsugu one last superior look, then he turned to leave.

“ _Good night_ ,” he said, pointedly ending the conversation.

He did not wait for Yoshitsugu to bid him good night in return; instead, he propelled himself forward with a decisive beat of his tail and made his way towards his chambers.

The conversation had rattled him in ways he could not explain, and he longed for the oblivion of sleep. 

x—x—x

A few days later, Motonari hovered in front of the Oracle’s door, one hand poised to knock on the giant pink shell.

He was hesitating, weighing his need for her assistance against his desire to turn around and avoid the major headache her presence was sure to give him. Motonari forcefully reminded himself of all the reasons going to Tsuruhime for help was the safest course of action he could take, no matter how unpleasant he found dealing with her.

Whenever he returned from his visits to the Rising Sun, Motonari was expected to report to the King. Worse yet, after the trip his possessions were searched each time, to ensure that he had not smuggled anything into the castle. This, of course, posed an obvious problem in regards to his plans concerning the Stone of Ascension.

He needed a way to leave the castle undetected and unchallenged, and he needed a way to return without giving anyone cause for alarm.

In short, he needed a disguise.

And no matter which way he twisted and turned it, Tsuruhime was in the best position to provide him with one. That, and much as he found her company irritating, Motonari knew that in this matter, she could be trusted to keep his secret. The same could not be said for the other women in the castle.

There was no way around it.

Motonari steeled himself and finally knocked.

It only took a few moments for Tsuruhime to chirp: “Come in!”

With a sigh, Motonari did just that, pushing the clam door open and revealing his identity to the Oracle. Ironically enough, she looked rather ecstatic to see him. Sadly he did not quite return the sentiment.

“Oh, Motonari! How wonderful to see you!” she exclaimed, making his eyebrow twitch. “I had a feeling you would be visiting me, but I thought I was just imagining things – you _never_ come see me, after all!”

At her urging, Motonari closed the door behind himself and entered the room properly. Feeling somewhat awkward, he took a look at his surroundings and winced internally. If he were allowed only one word to describe Tsuruhime’s chambers, it would be girly. If he were allowed a second word, it would be pink.

“Please, sit,” Tsuruhime said, gesturing towards a small table in the centre of the room.

Resigning himself to his fate, Motonari did as he was told. At least the chair was comfortable. Tsuruhime took the seat across from his and propped her elbows up on the table, her fingers laced underneath her chin.

“Do you wish for me to read your fortune?” the Oracle asked. “As always, the first reading of the year is free, so don’t be shy!”

Motonari shook his head. “I did not come here for anything of the sort,” he said. “But I do require your assistance.”

Tsuruhime smiled widely at that and clutched at her chest. “Oh, I _knew_ it!” she gushed and Motonari was quite sure he could see actual stars glittering in her eyes. “Is this about your secret lover? Oh, _please_ tell me it’s about your secret lover! I’ve been _dying_ to learn more about her!”

For a moment, Motonari was confused. Then he remembered that conversation he had had with Tsuruhime, all those months ago, where he had led her to believe that he had fallen in love with the sun. Clearly she had assumed he was referring to an actual person; a human woman in fact, and one that she obviously thought he was having some sort of torrid cross-species love affair with.

It was ridiculous, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was an assumption he could work with.

“You mustn’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” Motonari said, letting the Oracle come to her own conclusions. “The King _cannot_ find out.”

Tsuruhime all but squealed and Motonari could have sworn she actually _sparkled_ for a second there. “A forbidden love that must not be between a human and a merman…! How romantic! It’s just like in the stories!” Much to Motonari’s discomfort, she chose that moment to grab his hands and lean closer, an excited glint in her eyes. “I want to know all about her! What is her name? Is she beautiful? I know! Is she a princess?”

As politely as he could, Motonari extracted his hands form Tsuruhime’s hold. Raising an eyebrow at the mermaid, he said: “I met her on a pirate ship. What are the odds of her being a princess?”

Pouting slightly, Tsuruhime said: “Well, she could be a pirate princess!” Then her eyes widened and she added: “Or maybe they _kidnapped_ her! And now you’re trying to free her from their evil clutches!”

Motonari snorted. “Nothing of the sort, I’m afraid. It’s not quite as heroic as all that. I merely wish to meet with her – in secret, naturally.”

First Tsuruhime looked a little disappointed, but then she nodded sagely. “Of course – with the King dictating when you can leave and when you cannot, you only get to see her so rarely. You must miss her terribly.”

“I do,” Motonari said, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

Tsuruhime shot him a pitying, soulful look that made him want to roll his eyes. For the sake of his scheme, he managed to suppress the urge.

“So, will you help me?” he asked.

“But of course!” Tsuruhime was quick to agree. Then she frowned. “Though I am not quite sure how I can be of help in this matter… Perhaps you should ask one of the guards for assistance instead…? I’m sure they would be willing to turn a blind eye, for the sake of love.”

Motonari shook his head. “No, that absolutely will not do. It has to be you.”

“Well, alright then.” Looking determined, Tsuruhime said: “Just tell me what you need, and I will do everything in my power to assist.”

Motonari leaned back in his chair, pleased that everything so far had gone according to plan. It had not taken much at all to turn Tsuruhime into a loyal pawn – the mermaid had a rather foolish weakness when it came to matters of love. Perhaps it was because she was so young, or perhaps it was simply that she was a soft-hearted, naïve fool.

After a few moments of silence, Motonari spoke.

“I need a disguise.”

x—x—x

Several hours later, Motonari was beginning to question his sanity.

Perhaps being out in the sun for too long these past few months had fried his brain to a point where his judgement had become so severely impaired that he was no longer able to distinguish between a reasonable course of action and a Very Bad Idea entirely deserving of those capital letters.

Or perhaps he had simply spent too much time in the company of the Rising Sun’s crew and had subsequently managed to catch their special brand of utter stupidity. He should have realized from the start lack of intelligence that pronounced could not be natural and had to be the result of some sort of terrible contagious disease.

Either way, he blamed Motochika.

Tsuruhime had only been all too eager to help once he had disclosed the full details of his plan to her. In fact, in her excitement she had let out a terrifying girlish squeal before dashing off to collect all the supplies she deemed necessary for the task set before her. She had gestured for him to take a seat near the mirror. Sitting across from one another, the real torture had begun.

And the entire time, Tsuruhime had busied herself cheerfully alternating between idle conversation and questions about his ‘one true love’ – all while seemingly oblivious to his growing annoyance. That he had not murdered the Oracle yet was a miracle.

“I’ve always wanted a sister,” Tsuruhime told him, carefully dabbing at his face with a sponge.

It tickled, and Motonari scrunched up his nose a little, trying to hold still.

“There were no girls my age back home, at the temple – only the priests that raised me,” she said, moving on to his other cheek. “It wasn’t lonely, not really, the priests were all wonderful and took good care of me, but I still wish there had been _someone_ , you know?”

Motonari clenched his jaw and said nothing. He’d been swallowing down all his usual scathing remarks for hours now, and it was getting harder by the minute.

Fortunately for his remaining scraps of sanity, Tsuruhime chose that moment to finish up.

“There!” the mermaid said with obvious pride, finally easing up on him as she admired her handiwork. With her hands clutched to her chest and her eyes too wide, she looked just the tiniest bit awestruck.

Motonari shifted uncomfortably.

“Stop gaping; you look like a fish,” he snapped.

“And you look _so pretty!”_ Tsuruhime gushed in response, electing to let his rude comment slide right off of her.

Motonari winced. And then, with a sinking sense of trepidation, he slowly turned to look into the mirror.

A vaguely familiar woman stared back at him.

For a moment, Motonari didn’t even recognize himself, but when he frowned his reflection mimicked the action, eliminating all doubts he may have had.

Tsuruhime had painted his face the way she painted her own – nothing too exotic, just enough to enhance his eyes and soften up his features a little with a smattering of pink dusted across his cheeks.

The bottom half of his face was concealed by a barely see-through veil the likes of which distinguished ladies of the court wore when venturing out into the world beyond the castle. It made his identity harder to make out and also hung low enough to hide his Adam’s apple.

His hair was done up in an artful bun, part of it held in place by the very same brightly coloured coral comb he had been gifted with by his secret admirer all those months ago. It was the first time Motonari had worn it like that, usually only using it to brush his hair. It was also the first time he had worn any of the jewellery he had been given – a necklace and some bracelets, glinting in the light.

Tsuruhime had lent him one of her shell bras, its salmon colour matching that of her tail. They had gotten very creative with her art supply, and as long as nobody attempted to grope him too hard Motonari’s fake breasts would pass inspection. Motonari reached up and tugged on the straps of the bra, adjusting it a little with furrowed brows.

As disconcerting as the fake breasts were, the biggest change of all was still his tail. It was the first thing they had done, using a special dye to change its distinctive pattern of green, aquamarine and gold scales into a solid pinkish colour, not unlike Tsuruhime’s tail. It wasn’t permanent and would fade quickly enough – it was something the ladies of the court did for special occasions such as a dance, a wedding… or a funeral.

All in all, Motonari made for a frighteningly convincing woman, his slight frame and delicate features for once working in his favour.

“We really _do_ look like sisters now!” Tsuruhime remarked happily, crowding into his personal space so they were both visible in the mirror, side by side.

With a derisive roll of his eyes, Motonari said: “It would hardly be the first time someone wrongfully assumed us to be siblings.”

“Siblings, yes – but not sisters!” Tsuruhime insisted, smiling widely. Motonari did not understand why the concept excited her so. The Oracle’s smile gained a teasing edge as she said: “But I do wonder… what will your princess say when she sees you like this?”

Motonari sighed heavily, having long since given up on correcting Tsuruhime’s firm belief that the human woman he was supposedly having a secret love affair with was a princess abducted by pirates.

“I imagine there will be far more teasing than the situation warrants,” Motonari replied, already dreading the comments Motochika and the rest of the crew were likely to throw his way when he went to see them like this.

Still – for the Stone of Ascension, he would gladly endure such ridicule ten times over.

In the end, it would all be worth it.

x—x—x 

Returning from a meeting with King Hideyoshi and Hanbei, Yoshitsugu made his way towards his quarters at a leisurely pace.

As he crawled forward along the floor, he allowed his thoughts to stray back to what had been said during the meeting. Hanbei was getting rather impatient with Motonari’s lack of progress on the surface. The merman had something to report each time he returned from a trip, and there was always something useful to be learned, but they all knew that Motonari was carefully choosing what to share and what to omit.

Hanbei had taken it gracefully in the beginning, but as time passed, it had become increasingly obvious that he was running out of patience. He hid it well, but at times, he seemed hurried – almost frantic.

Yoshitsugu had his suspicions why.

He had been instructed to keep an eye on Motonari, monitor his activities closely – which was easier said than done. Unfortunately, Motonari had taken to avoiding Yoshitsugu whenever possible. Of course, Yoshitsugu was not overly worried. He was fairly certain Motonari was planning something – when was he not, after all – but he had a feeling whatever it was, it would fit nicely into Yoshitsugu’s own agenda.

All he needed to do was bide his time and wait.

Lost in thought as he was, Yoshitsugu turned a corner and failed to react in time when he noticed someone heading his way quickly.

They crashed into one another in an awkward tangle of limbs and fins. It took a moment to sort out – having so many limbs always made things a little complicated. “Forgive me,” Yoshitsugu said, getting his first good look at the person he had bumped into.

It was a brunette mermaid with a salmon-pink tail that reminded him greatly of the Oracle. He did not recall seeing her around before, but then again, the bottom half of her face was obscured by a veil. She demurely lowered her head in a small bow of apology before Yoshitsugu had a chance to scrutinize her further.

Then she was moving again, pushing past him without ever having said a word. Yoshitsugu turned and watched her go, sharp eyes focused on the brightly coloured coral comb pinning her hair back. It was unique, with an unusual design showcasing excellent craftsmanship.

There was no doubt about it. Yoshitsugu had seen that particular comb before – he was absolutely certain of it.

And he remembered _exactly_ where he had last seen it.

x—x—x 

It was laughable, really, how easy it had been to sneak out of the castle undetected.

There had been a few lingering, appreciative glances as he passed a group of soldiers in the courtyard but apart from that, no one had looked at Motonari twice. The guards had let him through the gate without issue, merely warning him to be careful if he planned on venturing outside the city walls on his own.

The only close call had been literally bumping into Yoshitsugu – Motonari would not have put it past the man to recognize him despite his disguise. Luckily, it appeared he made a convincing enough woman to fool even Yoshitsugu. He was grateful that he had not run into Hanbei. Chances were the silver-haired merman would have seen through the act with a single glance.

Now Motonari was out in the open sea, having left the castle walls and the surrounding city behind without further incident. With his disguise, he had been unable to bring his ring blade or any of his armour. To make up for it, he had brought a small dagger that he kept concealed in the bag he had brought.

The bag served another purpose: he would use it to carry the treasure he had promised to bring Motochika in exchange for the Stone of Ascension. Usually, the treasure he took to Motochika was provided for him by the King’s men. Seeing as this particular visit with the Rising Sun’s crew was supposed to remain a secret, obtaining treasure in such a way this time was obviously out of the question.

Motonari would have to do some treasure hunting of his own.

With the help of his remaining loyal pawns and some original research, Motonari had managed to learn of the location of an abandoned shipwreck that had not yet been ransacked for its riches. He had chosen it for its location. It was resting at the bottom of a trench that conveniently lay on the way to the island he knew Motochika’s crew was currently staying at.

Now it was just a matter of finding the ship, grabbing anything that seemed valuable and making his way to the right island.

As it turned out that was easier said than done.

x—x—x

 

This deep down, the water was dark and freezing.

The oddest creatures lived at the bottom of the trench, some of which Motonari had only read about before. They had all in their own ways adjusted to life with so little light. Motonari, on the other hand, was having some trouble navigating properly. He was not accustomed to diving so deeply and the heightened water pressure was getting to him.

It was eerily still and quiet. It was… unnerving. Motonari found himself shuddering briefly.

Up ahead, he could just make out the silhouette of his destination. The ship was in ruins. Something had blown a huge hole into its side, and on the way to the bottom of the trench it had visibly taken even more damage. Wooden planks stuck out of the ground at odd angles, reminding Motonari uncomfortably of crooked grave markers at an abandoned graveyard.

Motonari slowly approached the ship. The sea had swallowed it up in more ways than one – now that he was closer, he could see that the wood was covered in algae and had become home to various forms of sea life. The sea anemones shrank away from him whenever he strayed too close.

The ship had landed on its side, part of it crushed against a large rock. It limited Motonari’s options of actually entering the ship and exploring its interior. Circling around to the other side where the captain’s cabin was located, Motonari found that the frame of one of the windows was busted up. It left a hole just big enough for him to squeeze through.

Motonari carefully manoeuvred himself through the opening. A sharp sting of pain in his arm told him that he had not been quite as careful as he should have been. Gritting his teeth, Motonari inspected the wound as well as he could in the poor light.

A jagged piece of glass still in the frame had cut a long line down his left upper arm. The cut was not deep enough to cause any permanent damage, but it was bleeding heavily. That wasn’t good. Outside the well-protected urban areas, a bleeding injury only ever meant trouble.

He needed to hurry.

Grimly, Motonari set about exploring the rest of the ship. He had indeed ended up in the captain’s cabin – and if the captain of this ship had been anything like Motochika at all, there had to be something of value around here _somewhere_. Motonari felt his way around the cabin, navigating around decaying furniture and broken wood.

He found a chest full of rotting cloth and a drawer filled with the leather covers of several books, their pages long since disintegrated in the water. There was a globe lying against one wall, rust and other damage preventing Motonari from spinning it the way he had seen Motochika do with his. Underneath the remains of a broken chair, Motonari found what looked like a gold candleholder. Figuring it had to be worth something at least, he put it into his bag.

Motonari continued to dig through the rubble, moving pieces of wood and rock aside. Ever so often, he roused a group of nightmarish deep sea fish from their hiding places. They hurriedly swam past him and found another dark spot to hide in.

By his estimate, he had been searching for about fifteen minutes when Motonari literally struck gold: with some effort, he had pulled a busted up table board aside, revealing a shattered chest that had been partially concealed underneath it. It was lying on its side, gold coins and gemstones spilling out onto the ground.

Relief flooded Motonari as he began quickly scooping the treasure into his bag in big handfuls. He didn’t want to stay down here a single moment longer than absolutely necessary. He would not admit it if asked, but this place, this sunken ship – it made him highly uncomfortable.

He had gathered about half of the gold when a large shadow passed by the window he had come through.

Motonari tensed and immediately stopped what he was doing. If he had been on land, he would be holding his breath – as it was, he had gone completely still, listening intently, keeping a watchful eye on the cabin’s windows.

A few seconds later, his gaze was returned.

By a shark.

Cold dread gave way to a surge of white-hot panic. There was a shark outside the ship, blocking his only way out. Motonari didn’t have his ring blade, didn’t even have his armour – all he had was a bag full of gold and a tiny dagger that would not do him much good in a fight against a fully matured shark.

He was in trouble.

And that was quite possibly the biggest understatement of his life.

Motonari stayed perfectly still, hoping against hope that the shark had not actually spotted him. He knew better than to take it as a good sign when the creature disappeared from his sight a few moments later – even if it had not seen him, it could still taste his blood in the water. It was likely what had attracted the shark in the first place.

Cursing his injury, Motonari retreated further into the captain’s cabin and took cover behind some debris just in time for the shark to slam its body against the already weakened window frame. The impact was strong enough to rock the entire ship wreck, the aged wood creaking and groaning ominously under the assault.

With his heart beating a frenzied rhythm against his ribcage, Motonari furiously tried to think of a way out of this situation. The idea of ending up as shark food was rather unappealing to him.

Meanwhile, the shark had hauled back again, preparing for another full-body slam. The sound of breaking wood told Motonari that he didn’t have much time – the window frame would only be able to take so much abuse before it broke apart completely, leaving a hole wide enough for the shark to make its way into the captain’s cabin.

He needed to think of something, and fast.

Motonari’s searching gaze fell on the door leading out of the cabin. It was blocked by a sizeable boulder, so he hadn’t bothered with it before – too much effort. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and with desperation came strength.

The sound of breaking wood was loud in his ears as Motonari grit his teeth and strained against the weight of the boulder, using his whole body to try and move it.

It barely budged.

Giving up once he realized it was futile Motonari scanned the room with wild eyes. An idea struck him and he grabbed the first wooden plank he could get his hands on. He slid one end as far underneath the boulder as it would go and then pressed down on the other end, using it as a lever.

The theory behind the idea was good and Motonari did manage to lift the boulder up a little – only for the rotten wood to give under the strain, the plank snapping cleanly in two. Motonari cursed and tossed the useless piece of wood aside. Fear making his blood pump madly, Motonari risked a glance at the shark’s progress.

The hole was wide enough now for the creature to nearly fit through. Currently it was stuck, tossing its head from side to side and snapping sharp teeth at him, but its wiggling would eventually destroy the rest of the frame.

There was no escape.

A wave of anger and despair hit Motonari. He had waited for so long, had been so patient – and when the opportunity to strike had finally presented itself to him in the form of an innocent looking blue stone, when it had finally seemed as if the odds were in his favour for once, life just _had_ to throw a shark at him.

He didn’t want to die.

He had so many plans, so many things he wanted, _needed_ to accomplish. There was so much he had yet to learn. There were so many things he still wanted to _do_ , so many things he still wanted to _see_. A whole lifetime of possibilities lay ahead of him, full of uncharted territory yet to be discovered.

Bizarrely, he thought of Motochika then.

His recollections of the man were startlingly vivid. He remembered the exact shade of his golden eye and the devilish glint in it. He remembered the deep timbre of his laughter, rough as the sea but not unpleasant. He remembered the white flash of too many teeth whenever Motochika shot him one of his wicked grins.

Most of all, he remembered a tingling warmth spreading through his belly and a large hand tightly wrapped around his own.

How curious, that he should waste his last few moments with thoughts of such an irritating, obnoxious, good-for-nothing low-life of a pirate. Motonari could not even pretend to understand it. There was _no time_ to understand it.

With a terrible sound of splintering wood, the shark freed itself.

Motonari closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG SHARK.
> 
> This chapter spiraled out of control and I ended up having to cut it in half... therefore the cliff hanger of doom.
> 
> You probably don’t remember because it’s been ages, but I actually set up that comb thing way back in chapter one. And the cross-dressing? Yeah, hinted at that in chapter one, too. I can’t believe it took me so long to get this far… And there is so much still to come, haha.


	9. Something Borrowed, Something Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: A lucky turn of events leads to Motonari discovering an ancient merfolk relic with mysterious powers among Motochika’s treasure: the Stone of Ascension. He convinces Motochika to part with it in exchange for more of the usual. To sneak out of the castle undetected, he asks Tsuruhime to help him disguise himself as a woman. It works, but on the way out of the castle he bumps into Yoshitsugu – who may or may not have recognized him because of the comb in his hair. Just when Motonari finally finds some sunken treasure inside a ship wreck, he is attacked by a shark…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mildly graphic descriptions of violence and slight to medium gore in this chapter. There’s a shark involved, so I suppose you were expecting as much. Still, I figured I should warn you in case any of you are squeamish about that sort of thing.
> 
> Also, the tongue of a shark is apparently called a basihyal. The more you know… I had a lot of fun with the first half of this chapter. Sharks are awesome. Oh, and the awful pirate lingo? Guess what. It’s back.

Motonari opened his eyes.

The shark was heading straight for him at a rapid pace, its jaw opened wide. Its mouth was a gaping maw filled with several rows of razor sharp teeth promising a bloody death.

It would not be over quickly.

Motonari had seen it before – sharks were messy eaters. The state they left their victims in was horrifying. He remembered seeing corpses with their limbs torn off and their bodies mangled almost beyond recognition, missing large chunks of bone and flesh. There was no dignity in such a death.

Soon, Motonari would find out first-hand what it was like to be mauled by one of these vicious monsters.

The thought made his blood run cold.

_No_ , he thought to himself firmly, abruptly.  _Not today._ _Not like this._

The shark barely had a tail’s length worth of distance to cover before it would reach Motonari and no doubt tear him to shreds. His dagger was still in his bag, buried underneath several handfuls of gold and precious stones – Motonari cursed himself for that particular oversight now. Seeing no other alternative and running out of time, Motonari reached for the broken plank he had discarded earlier.

The shark reached him, jaw opening even wider in preparation for the first bite.

Motonari braced himself and forced the plank past the creature’s teeth, jamming it between the shark’s basihyal and the roof of its mouth before it could clamp down on his arm. The wood forced the shark’s mouth open wide, preventing it from closing again.

It wouldn’t last long, but it bought him some time.

Quickly, Motonari withdrew his hand. While the shark was busy trying to dislodge the wooden plank, the merman darted past the creature and towards the large hole in the ship’s wall where the window had once been. On the way there, he dug through his bag blindly, fishing around for his dagger.

The sound of splintering wood told him the shark had managed to free itself.

Not good.

Motonari put on an additional burst of speed, hoping to reach the exit before his attacker could catch up to him.

Naturally, he had no such luck.

With the wooden edges of the hole already within reach of his fingertips, Motonari was forced to dodge back into the room as the shark came at him again, this time from the side. Motonari cursed. He had been close,  _so close…_

At least he was armed now, and he refused to go down without a proper fight. He was ill-suited to brute force both in build and in temperament, but necessity had long since taught him how to hold his own in a fight.

When the shark charged at him again, Motonari was ready.

With gritted teeth, Motonari slashed his dagger across the shark’s face, slicing clean through one eye before the creature could cause him any damage. The shark recoiled and started trashing around wildly in pain, its ruined eye oozing blood and other fluids.

Seeing his chance to make a break for it, Motonari attempted to reach the window once more. But even half-blind and half-mad with pain, the shark refused to let its prey escape. It snapped at him viciously, nearly taking off his head in its anger. Motonari withdrew, the realization hitting him that with the shark blocking the window like that, there was no getting past it. He would need to find another exit.

His eyes strayed back to the boulder blocking the only other way out of this room.

As he made his way towards the blocked door, the merman fended off another attack, this time leaving a bleeding cut across the shark’s nose and almost getting his fins torn off for his trouble. He picked up a cutlass stuck in a pile of rubble as he passed it. Its blade was rusty and dull, making it useless in battle – but it would make for an excellent lever where the aged piece of wood he’d tried to use before had failed.

Fully aware of the risk he was taking but knowing that he needed both hands to pull this off, Motonari slid his dagger back into his bag. Acting swiftly, he wedged the tip of the cutlass underneath the rock and pushed down on the other end with all his might.

Behind him, the shark had recovered from his last attack and was coming towards him with a vengeance.

His injured arm screaming in protest at the strain, Motonari struggled to move the boulder. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to him but had in reality barely been a moment or two, the boulder budged. It rolled to the side, the wooden floor creaking loudly under its weight.

Heady with relief, Motonari reached for the door handle, ready to wrench the door open and slam it back shut in the shark’s face.

But it was too late.

He had taken too long, and a searing pain in his left shoulder nearly made him black out as the shark’s teeth sank deeply into his flesh. Motonari screamed, his tail twitching and his entire body curling in on itself in an instinctive attempt to protect itself. It only made the shark latch on more tightly, and Motonari choked on another scream.

Desperate and unable to form a single coherent thought through the haze of pain clouding his mind, Motonari acted without thinking when he raised the rusty cutlass he was still holding high up above his head. With strength born from desperation, he brought the tip of the weapon down sharply on the shark’s head with both hands.

The cutlass was blunt with age, but Motonari had used enough force that the tip of it still penetrated the tough cartilage at the base of the shark’s skull.

Not deeply enough to kill it, but deeply enough to shock it into releasing him.

Free from the clutches of the shark’s jaw now, Motonari did not waste a single moment before propelling himself forward and through the door into the hallway beyond.

It led him deeper into the ship where the damage to its structure was more extensive. Barely holding onto consciousness, he ducked beneath fallen beams and darted around empty barrels, desperately looking for an exit. He had seen a hole in the ship’s hull when he had first arrived at the bottom of the trench, now he just needed to find it again.

Behind him, the tell-tale sound of a large body angrily slamming against wood again and again told Motonari that he was still anything but safe. The shark was determined to give chase, and it would not allow a decaying door to stop it for much longer.

It was dark inside the ship, and Motonari was navigating its belly almost blindly, having to rely on touch to find his way. When he spotted an area that appeared to be brighter than the rest of the cold water surrounding him, he wanted to sob with relief.

It was the exit. It  _had_ to be the exit.

For the first time since he had spotted the shark what felt like hours ago, Motonari allowed himself the faint, wonderful hope that he would make it out of this mess alive after all.

Freedom – he could nearly taste it.

Suddenly, there was a series of loud crashes and a few moments later, the shark was hot on his tail again. It was gaining on him fast, steadily drawing closer with every passing moment – a menacing, almost tangible presence looming behind him like a shadow.

Nearly having reached Motonari now, the shark slowly opened its mouth, its jaw dangerously close to clamping down on the merman’s delicate fins.

With one last desperate beat of his tail, Motonari burst out of the ship’s dark belly and into the open sea. A mere fraction of a second later, the shark burst forth as well with the sound of breaking wood.

And then its teeth clicked shut.

They closed around nothing but water.

Motonari chanced a cautious glance over his shoulder to see that once again the shark had gotten stuck in a hole not quite big enough for its massive body to squeeze through. It fought and it flailed, but this time, it appeared to be stuck permanently.

Unwilling to stick around and find out whether his assessment of the situation was correct or not, Motonari put on an additional burst of speed and ascended. He almost could not believe that he had made it out alive. It felt… unreal.

With his heart still beating wildly in his chest and his body shaking a little, he made his way out of the trench. Then he rose up even higher – he had taken a liking to travelling close to the surface, where the water was bright and comfortably warm. And after a close call like that, he needed all the comfort he could get.

His bag now heavy with treasure, Motonari’s next destination was obvious: he was heading for a small island he knew Motochika and the crew of the Rising Sun were currently staying at, laying low for a little while. With any luck, they would still be there by the time Motonari arrived.

He swam as quickly as he could, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

x—x—x

By the time he reached the island, the sun was already setting.

Motonari broke the surface, fighting against the darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision. The sight of the Rising Sun moving gently with the waves a short distance from the shoreline filled him with breathless relief. He had made it, if barely.

There was movement on the beach – men carrying wood and large barrels no doubt filled with rum. It appeared the crew was getting ready for yet another drunken night around the fire. Motonari swam closer, urging his body to keep moving with sheer strength of will alone.

The journey here had been a difficult one. He had lost a lot of blood.

Reaching the beach, Motonari collapsed into the sand from exhaustion. It stung when some of it got into the cut on his arm and he gritted his teeth, forcing his body up again. The sound of men shouting told him that he had been spotted.

They hurried towards him, and Motonari allowed himself to slump a little in relief. He felt weak and while he would have vehemently denied it under different circumstances, it was nice to see some familiar faces.

He was unsure when and how it had happened, but he felt safe with the crew of the Rising Sun.

“Cap’n!” one of the men now by his side yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Got a bit of a mermaid situation o’er here!”

“ _Mori’s_ here?” Motochika yelled back, his voice sounding far away but getting closer as he continued speaking. “Can’t be, he’s not due for another week.”

“It’s not Mori,” another man shouted. “It’s an _actual_ mermaid – a lass.” A pause, then the man apparently felt the need to add: “A real beauty. With tits an’ all.”

Motonari groaned, already deeply regretting his choice of disguise.

“And she’s injured!” a third man said. “Got a chewed up shoulder, don’t look too good if ye be wanting me opinion!”

“Step aside, men. Let me take a look,” Motochika said, pushing his way through the circle of men already surrounding Motonari.

Their eyes met and the pirate stopped and stared, his one visible eyebrow shooting up to disappear into his hairline. It was uncomfortable, but Motonari didn’t blame him. He supposed he made quite the sight, with his tail dyed pink and his hair in a messy bun.

“Blimey,” one of the newly arrived pirates said, sounding awestruck as he openly gaped at Motonari. “It _is_ a mermaid. An honest to God mermaid. She’s got shells an’ everything.”

“Wouldn’t mind her scrapin’ the barnacles off o’ me rudder… If ye know what I mean,” another man added, and his sleazy grin made Motonari both shudder and want to roll his eyes.

“An’ here I was thinking that was jus’ a belayin’ pin in yer britches…” someone muttered.

“Behave, men,” Motochika said, still eyeing Motonari with an inscrutable look on his face.

“Ye think she’s lost her tongue?” one of the pirates said, prompting Motonari to snap his gaze away from Motochika and to glare at the man that had spoken.

His vision swam and a wave of dizziness washed over him at the sudden movement. The world seemed to tilt to the side. He was falling. Suddenly, there was a steadying hand on his unharmed shoulder, keeping him upright. The merman blinked, realizing he had nearly passed out.

He looked up only to find that the hand still resting on his shoulder belonged to Motochika. The pirate was crouching beside him, a look of concern painted across his features.

“Easy there,” Motochika said. “You’re injured.”

Motonari scoffed at that, rolling his eyes in open derision. Trust the White Sea Devil of the West to state the obvious.

His reaction prompted an unexpected smile from Motochika. The pirate reached for the veil covering up the bottom half of Motonari’s face and removed it. Then his smile widened into a full-blown grin. Looking inexplicably pleased, he said: “Yeah, thought so. Good to see you, Mori.”

The crew of the Rising Sun went wild.

Everything else went dark.

x—x—x

Motonari woke up to find himself pressed against Motochika’s side, his head carefully cradled in the crook of the pirate’s neck.

They were still at the beach – almost at the exact same spot, even. Around them, the crew was in an uproar, talking loudly amongst themselves while openly staring at Motonari. The merman groaned a little, partly out of embarrassment and partly because he was feeling dizzy. He tried to sit up properly, but Motochika’s arm was around his waist, keeping him close.

“Get me some hot water and a cloth. A clean one. Bandages, too,” Motochika said, quickly taking charge of the situation. “And some rum, while you’re at it.”

In a flurry of activity, the crew rushed off to follow their captain’s orders, quickly dividing the tasks up among themselves.

“Put your arm around my shoulder,” Motochika said.

Motonari threw him a withering look but complied. It was undignified and yet he had no choice but to let the human carry him around like he was some sort of damsel in distress – his kind was not exactly equipped for moving about on land.

“There we go,” Motochika said, sliding an arm underneath Motonari’s tail. He hoisted him up with ease, mindful of his injured shoulder and arm. Then he began walking, carrying Motonari towards the place where some men were busy building a fire. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you all patched up.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t require your assistance,” Motonari said, his body tense in Motochika’s hold.

“Like hell you don’t,” Motochika said, giving the merman a pointed look. “I mean, look at yourself. What did you do? Pick a fight with a shark?”

“As a matter of fact… _yes_. That is exactly what I did,” Motonari said, taking great pleasure in the way Motochika’s visible eye widened in surprise.

“Wait… are you tryin’ t’ tell me that you took on a shark? On yer own?” a member of the crew that had fallen into step beside them asked.

“Yes,” Motonari said, his head held high with pride.

“An’ you came out on top?”

Disliking the scepticism in the pirate’s tone, Motonari narrowed his eyes into a glare. “Are you dumb on top of deaf and blind? Tell me, would I be here had I lost? I have survived far worse than this.”

The man scrunched his face up into an unbecoming grimace, looking very much as if he was unable to wrap his mind around the idea of Motonari facing down a shark and coming out of the encounter alive. He said: “But you’re tiny!”

Motonari bristled.

“Has it, perhaps, occurred to you that size does not necessarily equal prowess? Or is that too difficult a concept for your feeble mind to grasp?” he asked icily. The pirate visibly flinched.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Motochika cut in before the situation could escalate.

Motonari glowered but fell silent.

When they reached their destination, Motochika carefully set Motonari down. Then he took a seat beside him in the sand, critically eyeing the worst of his injuries. Someone handed him a wet cloth and he carefully began cleaning away the blood clinging to Motonari’s skin. The merman grew tense but let him do it, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Letting out a low whistle at the damage he was uncovering, Motochika said: “So much for all that unblemished skin. That bite’s definitely gonna leave a mark. Guess that shark got you good, huh?”

Motonari only grit his teeth a little tighter and said nothing.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” Motochika declared. Tearing his gaze away from Motonari’s mangled shoulder he turned his attention towards two of his nearby men, giving them both a meaningful look.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n!” they said as one, rushing off to follow his silent command.

“As I said before, there really is no need for any of this,” Motonari said, acutely aware that he was operating under a time limit. He needed to make his way back to the castle before his absence was discovered. “I am here on business, and I cannot stay long.”

“You’re not going anywhere until that wound’s been treated properly,” Motochika said firmly.

One of his men handed the pirate a bottle of rum and Motochika passed it on to Motonari. “Drink up,” he said, face hard but sympathetic. “You might not want to be sober for the next part.”

Watching the men from earlier return with what looked suspiciously like a needle and some thread, Motonari privately agreed. With a sinking feeling of resignation in his gut, he brought the bottle to his lips and took a couple of long pulls. The rum burned its way down his throat in a way that was by now familiar, warming him up from the inside. Motonari disliked the haze that overtook his mind when he drank, but at least it would dull the pain.

Wiping the back of his hand across his lips, Motonari handed the bottle back to Motochika without looking at him. He knew that he looked pale and was shaking a little, but how much of that was due to the blood loss and how much of it was due to dread he could not say.

“I’ll make it quick,” Motochika said, trying his best to be reassuring. All he got for his trouble was an icy glare. The pirate snorted. “Fine, be that way.”

And with that, he unceremoniously splashed some rum onto Motonari’s wound, making the merman hiss and seize up.

It  _burned._

“Stings, I know,” Motochika said apologetically. “But it helps lessen the chance of infection. Trust me; you don’t want a wound like that getting infected. Or any wound, for that matter.”

Gritting his teeth through the pain and trying very hard to fight down the murderous urges rising up within him, Motonari craned his neck to shoot Motochika a glare that by all rights should have melted his face off.

“Would it have _killed_ you to give me a little warning?”

Motochika shrugged one shoulder, only glancing at Motonari’s face briefly before turning his attention back to his injury. “Anticipation just makes it worse.”

“An’ it’s _gonna_ get worse, ye can trust me on that. Been where you are more times than I care t’ remember,” one of Motochika’s men said. “This yer first time gettin’ stitched up?”

“ _No_ ,” Motonari bit out between clenched teeth.

“So ye know what t’ expect,” the man said, nodding to himself. Before Motonari’s incredulous eyes, the man began pulling at his belt, sliding it free from his pants. He held the leather out towards Motonari. “Somethin’ t’ bite down on. Go on; take it - ‘s better than biting off yer tongue.”

The look of disgust on Motonari’s face should have been telling enough, but the man didn’t rescind his offer and when the merman caught sight of Motochika preparing the needle he decided to swallow his pride. He snatched up the belt, still managing to look haughty and superior as he placed it between his teeth.

“Smart choice,” the pirate said and got up to leave. Motonari was glad for it – he didn’t necessarily want an audience for this.

“Ready?” Motochika asked, his voice sounding oddly hushed. He was bent over Motonari’s shoulder, his eye focused intently on the task at hand – it made his breath ghost over the merman’s ear in a way that very decidedly did _not_ make goose bumps break out all over his arms.

Motonari took a deep breath, held his head up high and nodded.

Motochika got to work.

x—x—x

Later, after Motonari had been stitched up and bandaged to Motochika’s satisfaction, they and the rest of the crew were sitting around the fire.

Motonari felt shivery and sort of feverish. It was a warm night, but at some point someone had decided to throw a blanket around his shoulders. For once in his life, the merman had not complained. He was tired and sore, and unwilling to begrudge himself that little bit of comfort.

“You’re not gonna pass out on me again, are you?” Motochika asked. The hint of a half-smile on his lips said he was joking, but the watchful glint in his single eye told an entirely different story. His concern was palpable.

“No,” Motonari said somewhat icily. Then he shivered and drew the blanket more tightly around his thin shoulders, wincing when the movement pulled uncomfortably at his fresh stitches. He barely felt the cut on his arm now; the ache in his shoulder was far more difficult to forget.

“Good,” Motochika said. He fell silent and Motonari almost allowed himself to hope that it would stay that way. Instead, the pirate patted his tail in a way that Motonari felt was entirely too intimate and asked: “So, I think we’re all curious – what’s the story here?"

The crew had been laughing and talking loudly until then, but Motochika’s question had a lot of elbows meeting ribs as a hush fell over the assembled pirates. Irritated, Motonari batted the human’s hand away from his tail.

“I came here for the Stone,” he said primly, very carefully pretending he did not know what Motochika was really asking about.

“Hence the gold,” Motochika said with a nod, looking at the pile of valuables in the sand where Motonari’s bag had been emptied out earlier.

One of the crew members spoke up, his face scrunched up in a frown. “Meagre pickings, compared t’ the usual…” he muttered.

And perhaps he had a point, but Motonari still found himself narrowing his eyes at him, saying: “I risked my life for it.”

“I suppose I can hazard a guess that’s not usually the case?” Motochika asked and when Motonari turned to meet his gaze, he found himself a little taken aback by the calculating look on the pirate’s face. It was rare to see the silver-haired man like this – it usually was an expression reserved for chess only.

Motonari said nothing, allowing Motochika to come to his own conclusions.

Undeterred, Motochika continued speaking. He did not break eye contact. “I can only assume this means that usually, you have others provide you with the treasure you bring to me. That begs the question – why not this time? And this…”

Motochika reached for Motonari’s tail again, this time slowly dragging his hand along its dyed length. The touch was whisper-soft, barely there, but it still made Motonari’s heart race and something in his belly tighten in a way he found entirely inappropriate for the occasion.

“Now, don’t get me wrong, you _do_ look rather fetching and far be it from me to judge anyone for their life choices,” Motochika said, his fingers drumming out a rather distracting rhythm against Motonari’s scales. “But _pink?_ ”

Sneering a little and trying his hardest to hide the embarrassment that was quickly sneaking up on him, Motonari said: “It’s not permanent. By this time tomorrow my tail will long since have returned to its regular appearance.”

“Probably for the best; green suits you so much better,” Motochika said idly, shooting Motonari a quick, obnoxious grin before growing serious again.

Motonari said nothing – all he did was glare at the pirate silently.

“To go to all this trouble…” Motochika muttered, reaching for the blanket covering Motonari’s shoulders and pulling it open.

He was frowning, his gaze slowly trailing over the swell of Motonari’s fake breasts. It was hard to guess what he was thinking. The merman felt himself grow defensive – and then he grew inexplicably offended when Motochika flicked an experimental finger against the sea shell bra.

“Quit that,” he said irritably, snatching the blanket back from the pirate.

Motochika relented, hands now resting loosely in his lap. He was grinning, feigning innocence, but there were questions still burning in his eye. Teasingly, he said: “Reacting like a woman on top of looking like one now? Sometimes, you make me wonder, Mori.”

“Woulda made a damn fine lass,” one of the crew members muttered, be he went ignored.

“All in all, I can only come to one conclusion,” Motochika said, looking far too smug – as if he had just won some sort of unspoken contest. As if he had just _outsmarted_ Motonari in some way or another, despite the fact that clearly, that was not the case.

Rolling his eyes in blatant derision, the merman dryly said: “Please,  _enlighten_ me.”

Motonari had half-expected some inane comment calling his masculinity into question or perhaps some other obnoxious joke. What he got instead was another one of those calculating, piercing looks as Motochika said: “You’re not here on your King’s orders.”

A mutter went through the crew and Motonari said nothing.

It was Motochika’s turn to roll his eye. He said: “Oh, come on. The unplanned visit? The injury? The disguise? It’s  _obvious._ ”

Motonari inclined his head slightly, a hint of a genuinely amused smile playing across his lips. “I suppose it is. I needed a way to leave the Castle in secret, undetected – I used what was available.”

“Sneaking out to meet with me now?” Motochika asked, the grin on his face far too broad and self-satisfied. “Missed me that much, did you?”

With a scoff, Motonari said: “Don’t flatter yourself, pirate. I’m not here for my pleasure or yours; this is a simple business trip, nothing else. If not for the Stone, I would not be here at all. Why would I willingly subject myself to such unsavoury company?”

“Sure, go right ahead and dash a man’s hopes and dreams with that cruel tongue of yours. No need to be gentle about it, either,” Motochika said, but the way he was still grinning showed clearly that Motonari’s words rolled right off of him. “Careful though, I might just change my mind about letting you have that amulet.”

Shooting Motochika a very unimpressed look, Motonari said: “I upheld my end of the deal.” He gestured towards the treasure glinting in the sand. “Time for you to do the same.”

Motochika eyed the pile of gold critically, humming in thought. “My men are right. It _is_ a pretty meagre haul…”

Motonari tensed up, glaring at the pirate. “Are you going back on your word?”

“Maybe,” Motochika said, his golden eye shining with mirth.

“I do not have _time_ for this,” the merman hissed. In fact, he was already running woefully late in the schedule he had set for himself. “The longer I linger here, the greater the chance that I’ll be caught. Surely you can understand why I would rather not face the repercussions of my absence being discovered? The King does not take kindly to disobedience of any kind and he is not known for his mercy, or his capacity for forgiveness.”

At that, the humour vanished from Motochika’s face at once. He was regarding Motonari with a careful look now that the merman found difficult to interpret. Perhaps he was trying to ascertain whether Motonari was telling the truth about King Hideyoshi or if he was exaggerating for his own gain? Either way, the intensity of it gave the brunet pause.

“Your King sounds like a real hardass,” the pirate said slowly.

“He is not my King,” Motonari said proudly, his head held high. “He is a tyrant.”

Motochika held his gaze and something about his hardened features appeared to soften. A quiet understanding passed between them. Looking tired and old beyond his years, the Captain of the Rising Sun said: “I know a thing or two about tyrants.”

The crew looked stricken at those words, staring into their laps and refusing to meet his eyes. It piqued Motonari’s curiosity but before he could make the decision to ask, Motochika had already gotten to his feet. He grinned down at Motonari in a disquietingly cheerful way. With levity that did not quite seem appropriate for the moment, he said: “Time for our pretty little mermaid to return to the sea, don’t you think?”

As Motochika bent down to pick Motonari up, the merman sighed and asked: “Will you ever let me live this down…?”

“Not a chance!” Motochika said happily. “You’ll be hearing about this till the day you die.”

Defeated, Motonari slid his arms around the pirate’s neck and nodded his goodbye to the crew – they were still strangely subdued. As Motochika carried him towards the water, he pointedly said: “You still owe me the Stone of Ascension.”

“You shall have it, fear not,” Motochika said, wading into the sea until the water reached all the way up to his waist. Careful not to jostle his injuries, he sat Motonari down on a rock jutting out of the waves nearby. Then he came up behind him, one hand resting on the merman’s hip to needlessly keep him from falling. From the depths of his pockets he procured the blue amulet Motonari had gone through such trouble for.

Motonari watched, captivated, as Motochika held it up, the silver moonlight making the stone shine. All that power, residing within such a small, seemingly insignificant little object… It was almost unimaginable. And even if it did not hold any of the power the legends claimed, then it held prestige at the very least. A perfect bargaining chip in Motonari’s bid for the throne of Aki – and perhaps more than that, if he played his cards right.

“Hey, Mori. Will you ever tell me the _real_ reason this thing’s so special?” Motochika asked. His voice was quiet in the dead of the night with only the gentle sound of waves and the crackle of fire in the distance to disturb the silence.

Motonari said nothing for a long moment, simply reaching up to run his fingertips over the smooth blue surface of the stone, admiring his prize. Their hands brushed against one another, perhaps accidentally, perhaps not. The contact was light but electric, and instead of pulling away at once as he should have, Motonari allowed his hand to linger almost wistfully.

There was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere that sent a light shudder down his spine.

“In time,” Motonari said evenly.

They both knew it was a promise he did not intend to keep.

Motochika shifted against his back and for a moment, Motonari thought he would call him out on his little white lie. Instead, the pirate took the amulet and placed it around his neck. The stone rested coolly against his breastbone, heavier than its size suggested. Motochika closed the clasp at the back but kept his hands on Motonari’s shoulders, staying clear of the injured area.

His hands were warm and large and there was a knot forming in Motonari’s chest, hard and tight, that made it difficult to breathe. The silence that had descended over them was thick and heavy, as if the world was holding its breath.

Movement behind him told Motonari that Motochika had taken a step to the right to stand beside him, one hand tentatively trailing down his arm. The merman turned his head to meet the pirate’s gaze and when he saw his face bathed in moonlight, it hit him that this was goodbye.

How fitting, that he had been lured to the surface by the light of the sun and would depart from it under the full moon’s watchful gaze.

No words were spoken as Motochika’s hand completed its journey down Motonari’s arm to find its smaller counterpart. Their fingers rested easily against one another, intimately. When Motochika leaned in, Motonari’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes slid shut of their own accord, anticipation forming a tight coil in his chest. Yet all the pirate did was brush a loose strand of hair behind his ear before he drew back.

“Be careful,” he said, sounding oddly tender.

Motonari swallowed thickly and nodded, trying to appear entirely unaffected. He was not sure he succeeded. With one last long look and a sense of finality to his words, he said: “Farewell, Chosokabe Motochika.”

Then he turned and slid off the rock without any further hesitation, the sea gently parting around him before it swallowed him up.

He wished he had looked back.


	10. The Wicked Witch of the Western Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Motonari narrowly escapes a messy death by shark. Injured but alive, he makes his way to an island where the crew of the Rising Sun is currently laying low. He trades in the treasure he risked his life to obtain for the Stone of Ascension. Thinking he will never return to the surface, he says his goodbyes to Motochika before diving back into the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bioluminescent algae are a real thing, but they don’t quite work the way this chapter suggests. They do glow though, if certain requirements are met – usually in green or blue. You should google them; they’re really pretty.

Three days had passed since Motonari had returned from his most recent and final trip to the surface.

Sneaking back into the palace had been more difficult than sneaking out, his bandaged injuries and dishevelled appearance drawing unwanted attention. But with Tsuruhime’s help he managed to return to his chambers without anyone recognizing him for who he truly was. The plan had gone off without a hitch.

In the privacy of his quarters, Motonari had then shed his disguise and had become himself again, viciously scrubbing at his tail until every last trace of pink had been cleanly washed away. He had been especially glad to be rid of the sea shell bra and the cumbersome fake breasts contained within. To hide his still healing wounds he had taken to wearing his armour at all times, except for when he was sleeping. No one had grown suspicious yet.

He had spent so much of his life waiting for the right moment that he felt he should by now be used to biding his time. But nothing could have prepared him for how difficult it was to remain patient now that he finally had the Stone of Ascension in his possession. In its current state, the dull blue stone set within the delicate frame was just that: an ordinary stone. To return to its former glory it needed to be charged and there were only two people Motonari could think of that were capable of such a feat.

One of them was Otani Yoshitsugu, who possessed a certain affinity for the magic arts on top of being supremely annoying and entirely untrustworthy. It went without saying that coming to him for help was out of the question. Much as the merman with the many limbs liked to claim that they were friends, Motonari knew there was no love lost between them. Theirs was an antagonistic relationship based on fake pleasantries and thinly veiled insults.

The other person was a mermaid by the name of Oichi who was widely known and feared throughout the Kingdom for two things: her frightening aptitude for the dark arts and her utter insanity. They called her the Wicked Witch of the Western Sea and many a legend surrounded her, each more unsettling than the next.

Yoshitsugu had always been quite fond of her special brand of misery, delighting in the doom and gloom that followed her wherever she went. Motonari thought his strange taste in women was appalling.

She was his only hope, and when the opportunity to seek her out presented itself, he took it without hesitation.

x—x—x

It was rare for him to be granted permission to leave the Palace without an entourage of guards to accompany him.

He had been asked to run a small but time-consuming errand for the King that gave him an excuse to be gone all day. The timing was incredibly convenient – perhaps suspiciously so, but Motonari could not bear to wait any longer.

The palace guards gave him no trouble when he tried to leave the building. It wasn’t until he was half-way across the courtyard that a hand fell heavily on his injured shoulder and wrenched him around.

Motonari flinched and bit down on a cry of pain, his eyes squeezing shut. Forcing his eyes back open he came face to face with Mitsunari’s darkest scowl.

“Where do you think you’re going, snake?” the merman hissed, hazel eyes narrowed in mistrust.

“Out,” Motonari managed between gritted teeth, reaching up to try and dislodge Mitsunari’s hand from his shoulder. But the merman was a lot stronger than he looked, his fingers only digging in deeper, claw-like. Motonari gasped. “To do _your_ King’s bidding.”

Mitsunari’s glare intensified and he crowded into Motonari’s personal space, looming threateningly over the smaller merman.

“He is your King as much as he is mine, and you would do well to show him the respect and adoration he deserves.”

Motonari said nothing, his chin raised proudly, his own glare cold where Mitsunari’s was blazing hot.

The silver-haired merman’s nostrils flared and he bared his teeth, his menacing behaviour very much reminiscent of the shark he shared a tail with. Then his brows furrowed and he paused.

“You’re injured,” Mitsunari said slowly, his ability to sniff out even day-old blood another quality he had in common with a shark. Or perhaps Motonari’s pained reaction to having his shoulder grabbed had given him away. “Badly, too. What could you possibly have been doing _within_ the confines of the castle to sustain an injury like that?”

“I fail to see how that is any of your concern,” Motonari replied icily. “You have no right to question me like this, no right to pry into my personal business. Now unhand me – I have a task to carry out, and the King will be displeased to hear that you delayed me.”

Mitsunari all but snarled and for a moment, Motonari wondered if he would resort to violence in his anger. Given the merman’s history of lashing out at the slightest provocation, it would not have been all too surprising.

Motonari braced himself for a blow that never came.

“Enough, Mitsunari,” a soft voice spoke.

They both froze before turning their heads to the side as one. Their eyes fell on Takenaka Hanbei, who had his hands clasped behind his back and was studying them with a serene expression.

But the look in his eyes was sharp, calculating and suddenly, Motonari found himself intensely aware of the Stone of Ascension he had thought so safely hidden in his bag.

Hanbei could never know. It would ruin everything.

“Everything is in order,” Hanbei told Mitsunari. “Now be a dear and release the man. He does have important business to attend to.”

Mitsunari gave him one last glare but he did as he was told, obeying Hanbei’s command as if it had come from King Hideyoshi directly.

“Very good,” Hanbei said. Then he turned to Motonari, a knowing glint in his violet eyes. “Run along now, and don’t be late.”

Motonari did not need to be told twice. With a curt nod, he took off, glad that his precious secret had not been discovered and anxious to move things along. Nothing could go wrong in this initial stage of his plan: once things had already been set in motion, there would be room for error. But this early on, everything hinged on charging the Stone of Ascension without anyone knowing.

Motonari was already well on his way to the gate and out of earshot when Hanbei spoke again.

“Alert the spies. I want a full report.”

x—x—x

The sea witch lived just outside of town, in a dark cave at the bottom of a jagged ravine where natural light from the surface was sparse.

Mothers told their children to stay clear of this place, fearing they might get lost playing hide and seek in the labyrinthine tunnels and caverns running through the area. Their depths had never been explored in their entirety; they were far too extensive and reached too deeply into the heart of the earth for that. You could wander for days and still not find an exit.

Over the years, there had been many disappearances here: adventurous would-be explorers and curious children never returning home. Most assumed they had simply ventured too deeply into the caves and lost their way but others laid the blame for their disappearance at the fins of the sea witch.

No one was quite sure who she was or where she had come from, but if you believed the whispered stories people liked to tell about her she had lost her husband and her mind to the war, weeping and wandering the battlefield for months until finally settling down in her dark and dreary cave.

Her name was Oichi; that was the only thing anyone really knew about her with any sort of certainty.

x—x—x

Motonari had snuck out of the city unseen, taking advantage of a bit of a commotion he had arranged near the marketplace.

It had started very innocently with two angry vendors and an overturned plankton cart, and then it had quickly escalated from there. Last he had seen the ensuing brawl had just gotten to that inevitable point where people started smacking each other with dead fish. It was a bit of a tradition among the common merfolk, albeit one that Motonari had only ever viewed with derision. It was entirely too barbaric for his tastes.

As he left the bustling streets of the city behind and approached the sea witch’s lair, the atmosphere grew noticeably gloomier. The waters surrounding her home were always suffused in a sense of such deep melancholy and despair that even Motonari dreaded visiting her.

She was a pitiful creature, and the very sight of her disgusted him as much as it made him uncomfortable.

At the entrance to her cave, Motonari hesitated and slowed his approach until he finally came to a stop. He strained his ears and listened closely. 

“ _Deep in the shadowed depths there's a place,_  
_Where devils and demons' presence does grace...”_

Very faintly, he could hear singing, the sound of it gently drifting towards him from within the gaping maw of the cave mouth.

“ _Petals fall and flowers wither,_  
_The voices call, ‘Come now! Come hither!’…”_

A feeling of unease took hold of him with ice-cold hands as he cautiously drew a little closer. Pressed against the rocky side of the tunnel leading into the witch’s lair, he peered into the darkness beyond.

“ _In the dark, the girl so bright,_  
_Got up to see the day by night...”_

The longer he stared into its depths, the more he thought he could see movement inside the tunnel: it looked like the walls were alive, teeming with thousands of squirming creatures. Motonari thought they were reaching out to him, beckoning him closer so they could twine around his tail and drag him down into the dark.

The notion was ridiculous, of course.

“ _Wander freely, wander far,_  
_Off beneath the Devil's star...”_

Berating himself for his childish fears, Motonari resumed his journey, guided by the glow of the container of bioluminescent algae he had brought. He had barely moved forward a tail beat’s worth of distance or two before something brushed lightly against his arm, his side, his tail. The merman shuddered but gritted his teeth and kept swimming.

It was only eelgrass, growing on the floor and walls of the tunnel.

What else would it be?

“ _The white of flesh, the white of bone,_  
_The worms will leave your soul alone...”_

The deeper Motonari ventured into the cave, the clearer Oichi’s voice became. There was a sluggish, dream-like quality to her singing as if she were only half-awake and the words were tumbling from her lips without conscious thought. It sounded as if she were very far away, lost inside the fog of her own broken mind.

“ _Her fear in hand, her fear in heart,_  
_Her fear did tug her soul apart...”_

Motonari came to a fork, one path curving slightly upwards and the other one leading deeper into the earth at a gentle slope. Last time he had been here on an errand – years ago – he had been accompanied by a group of guards leading the way. Confronted with the choice of going left or right, he found he could no longer remember which way he was supposed to turn. He stopped and waited, closing his eyes as he listened.

“ _On and on the road does go,_  
_Down into the depths below...”_

Following the sound of the sea witch’s voice, Motonari chose the left path, the one winding itself downwards into the rock. A little chill danced down his spine, not exclusively prompted by how cold the water was this deep down.

“ _Off you go to call the king,_  
_You wish to hear the devil sing...”_

A faint purplish-red light glowing up ahead let Motonari know he was close to reaching his goal. The tunnel opened up and broadened into a proper cavern. In here, the water was warmer, the ground cracked in places where natural underwater geysers had forced the rock apart.

“ _On your knees you beg to know,_  
_What seeds of fate the devils sow...?”_

Motonari wove his way through the hot streams of water, both eager to have the Stone of Ascension finally enchanted and dreading coming face to face with the sea witch. Past encounters with her had always left him deeply unsettled and he rather doubted this one would be any different.

“ _Ask you will and ask you may,_  
_The fate of love on this fair day...”_

There was an elevated area at the far side of the cave. Strange plants grew at its foot, looking like large, black roots sprouting from the wall and burrowing down into the ground. They pulsated rhythmically, uncomfortably reminiscent of a beating heart. Each time it happened, a faintly glowing, red substance was visibly pumped through them at a sluggish pace.

It turned Motonari’s stomach to look at it, so he tried to avoid it.

He ascended.

In the centre of the plateau sat the Wicked Witch of the Western Sea, her long hair billowing out behind her like a dark burial shroud.

She had many limbs below her narrow waist, matching the colour of her black hair. They were writhing along the ground and through the water like so many hands desperately searching for purchase, for something to hold onto. She was no longer singing; instead she was muttering nonsense to herself, hunched forward and gently stroking the pale object cradled against her chest like it was her most treasured possession.

Drawing closer, Motonari realized it was a skull, stripped clean of all its flesh and skin.

He felt a little sick.

As he swam closer, a shudder went through Oichi’s body and she let out a low, anguished sob, clutching the skull tighter.

“Everyone… They’re all… Where did they go…? Did they leave…?” she murmured, her voice breathy and thin, barely there. “Do they dislike me…?”

Motonari stopped and watched as another sob racked her body. He could not help but think that she was weak and pitiful, her mind a feeble, disgusting thing. He’d never seen a creature more pathetic than the sea witch even if her aptitude for the dark arts was astounding.

“Everything… It’s all my fault…”

She was surrounded by a perpetual mist of inky blackness. Yoshitsugu as well was able to use a cloud of ink to conceal his movements and blind his enemies in battle, but with Oichi, it served no such purpose. Motonari suspected that she either was not aware of her actions or that she liked the darkness the ink created around her.

All the better to wallow in misery, after all.

Oichi didn’t seem to have noticed his presence yet so Motonari cleared his throat pointedly to get her attention.

There was no reaction at first, no indication that she had even heard him, but then her many limbs suddenly froze, lying flat against the ground. Oichi lowered the skull she was still holding down to rest against her lap, raising her head a little at the same time. It hung off to the side at an odd angle, her neck strangely limp.

“Ah… I can’t see. Maybe… _I know_ ,” Oichi whispered, her voice soft and mournful at first before growing firmer with the last two words. “Perhaps it is night…? Perhaps I am blind…?”

She began rising off the ground slowly but steadily as if not by her own strength: a little like a dead fish pulled upwards by a hook, her suction cups detaching themselves one by one from the rock with ominous little pops.

“How cruel you must be…” she breathed, her head lolling back so she could stare at Motonari with empty black eyes. “Dragging me from my slumber into the light.”

Her hollow gaze seemed to go right through him, and yet she was clearly addressing him directly now.

It made Motonari shudder.

“I already miss the darkness…” she lamented. “The sweet gentle dreams I dreamt…”

“Lady Oichi,” he addressed her calmly and respectfully, taking great care to keep any and all disdain out of his voice and his expression. It didn’t quite work.

“So bright… Like a mirror shining in the sun… Who are you…?” she asked, still peering through him, clearly not recognizing him from his previous visits. Curiously tilting her head a little more, she added: “Do you know who I am?”

Motonari frowned.

Had her condition deteriorated even further since the last time he had seen her…? Perhaps a prodding reminder or two were in order.

“You are known as the Wicked Witch of the Western Sea,” he told her, purposefully ignoring her inquiry after his name. It was better that she didn’t know, in case anyone thought to question her.

She whimpered.

“No…!” she nearly sobbed, bringing the skull in her arms up to her face and pressing her cheek against it. “Ichi… My name is Ichi… Everything is Ichi’s fault… Lord Na—“

Getting impatient, Motonari cut her off before she could complete her sentence.

“I require your assistance.”

“No… you… do not go…!”

Oichi was getting agitated, swaying back and forth gently, her eyes dull and hazy, unseeing. Gritting his teeth, Motonari wondered if he was going to lose her – he wondered if her brief glimpse of lucidity earlier had only been temporary.

“It’s a task of great importance – one only you can complete.”

The sea witch wasn’t listening.

“Just a dream, just a dream _, just a dream_ …”

There seemed to be no getting through to her now, but Motonari had one more card to play. Raising his voice to be heard over her feverish chanting, he said: “If you assist me, all your sins will be forgiven.”

Oichi froze, going still and silent.

Very slowly, she raised her head and stared at him. Her lips were parted in wonder and her eyes were wide, perfectly focused on his face for the first time since he had entered her cave – perhaps for the first time ever. The sea witch was actually _seeing_ him.

“Do you mean it?” she asked desperately, her voice breathless with hope. “I will finally be put to sleep…?”

Pleased, Motonari nodded.

“Yes. You will be able to rest in peace.”

Her face twisted up into a slightly pained looking grimace of joy.

“I’ll work hard,” she assured him fervently. “I’ll work ever so hard…!”

Her eagerness disgusted him. Motonari enjoyed scheming and manipulating people into doing his bidding, but not when it was this easy – this required no finesse, no subtlety at all. Oichi’s mind had been rotting away for years and it took barely any effort to nudge her in the desired direction. Anyone could do it.

It was fortunate, then, that all but the bravest or those sent by the King avoided the sea witch at all costs.

“See to it that you do,” he said, wanting to roll his eyes in derision at the way she immediately slumped forward in a way that was probably supposed to be a nod of her head – so desperate to please, so easy to bend to his will. It was sickening, really.

He reached into his bag and pulled out the Stone of Ascension, holding it up by its chain to let her see it.

“Your task is to enchant this amulet,” Motonari said. “It used to be brimming with energy, but it’s dull now. It needs to be charged. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “It will shine so prettily.”

One of her black limbs rose from the ground, stretching out towards Motonari with quiet expectation. He hesitated for a moment or two, then he entrusted the sea witch with the Stone of Ascension. Her limb curled around it carefully and then it brought the amulet towards her face so she could inspect it more closely.

Oichi peered at it for barely a second before she gasped, abruptly letting go of the skull and carelessly leaving it to float down to the ground. With wide eyes she reached for the amulet still held high, running reverent fingertips over the surface of the dull blue stone.

Motonari shifted, wondering if her reaction should concern him.

“I always thought…” she said, trembling a little. “I always thought that the hole in this heart could never be filled…”

“You cannot keep it,” Motonari said, fearing that her fascination for the Stone of Ascension would lead her to misunderstand the terms of their agreement.

“Not my place, not my place, not my place,” she assured him – at least he hoped she was lucid enough that her mumbled words were directed at him and not one of the ghosts of her past that lurked in the shadows of her mind.

“As long as you understand.”

“I’ve been speaking to my brother… lots,” Oichi suddenly said, completely out of nowhere. She was still caressing the amulet, looking more sad than excited now.

“Have you?” Motonari commented idly, not caring in the slightest but forcing himself to be at least half-way civil for now – at least until Oichi had finished completing her task so he could leave this dreadful cave.

“Yes… He’s been whispering to me… It’s so loud, his voice inside my head…”

No visit to the sea witch’s lair was complete without a mention of her mysteriously absent brother so Motonari was not surprised by this turn of events. He had heard it all before and only took it as further proof of Oichi’s insanity.

“When this stone shines again… When you ascend… Will you look for my brother then?” Oichi asked, her dark eyes boring into his.

Motonari frowned. This question was new.

The truth was he had tried to locate her brother before; figuring that uniting the sea witch with her long lost family would turn her into his loyal pawn. But he had been unable to locate any records of her brother’s existence. Perhaps he had died a long time ago at a very young age, or perhaps she was simply insane and he had never existed to begin with.

“Will you help me look for him?” she asked, when Motonari took too long to reply.

Carefully, Motonari watched her, considering his options. If he agreed, he would be unable to keep his promise. Her brother was most likely dead. And even if he existed, somewhere – Motonari had no intention at all to find him for her. If he refused to help her, on the other hand, there was a chance she would refuse to help him in turn, despite his promises of absolution.

But if he _did_ promise Oichi her brother and then failed to deliver, he might make an enemy out of her – a very powerful enemy. Her insanity made her dangerous and volatile, unpredictable. There was no telling what she might do and how far she would go if he betrayed her.

“Please…?” she prompted again, pleading.

Motonari closed his eyes. Finally, he spoke.

“…Yes.”

“Oh, how kind of you! How wonderful!” she said breathily, seemingly overjoyed – yet at the same time, a shadow of fear flitted across her features and she looked like she might cry at any moment. “I’ve been waiting for so long…!”

Not wishing to listen to the inane babbling that was sure to follow, Motonari bluntly asked: “How long will it take for you to prepare the stone?”

Oichi hummed and swayed a little where she stood, eyes clouding over as she gazed off into the darkness of her cave, looking at nothing in particular – or perhaps looking at something beyond the range of what was visible to the rest of the merfolk.

“In two whole days and half a night,” she intoned, solemn and quiet, her voice strangely melodic. “A temple dark, a girl so bright; the moon so full, up in the sky, a wingless bird that cannot fly. The sun so red, down in the sea, a stone so blue, it sets you free.”

Motonari frowned at the cryptic way in which the sea witch had chosen to deliver her answer. Something about the strange, dream-like lilt to her words reminded him of the way that the priestesses back in Aki had spoken when reciting the prophecies and legends of old. The Oracle also had a tendency to sound like this, when she was in the midst of receiving revelation.

“We will meet again in two days then, at night? Midnight, to be precise?” he guessed, trying his best to interpret Oichi’s words.

“Yes,” she said, still swaying, looking oddly enraptured. “Midnight, at Honno-ji: where the little cuckoo cries. Tie the bag at the bottom and nothing spills out. Tie the bag at the top and it traps you inside.”

Again, her words were strange but her instructions on when and where to meet were clear enough at least. Motonari could not confidently say what a cuckoo was or what made her comment about bags tied at both ends relevant to the matter at hand, but he _was_ familiar with the temple she was referring to.

Honno-ji was ancient: it lay in ruins not far from the city, destroyed both by time and what must have been a terrible battle. Historians did not know who had built it or why it had been destroyed. They could not even say _when_ it had been built. It looked as if it had always been there. The entire temple’s past was shrouded in mystery and many a legend surrounded its origins.

Motonari had only visited it once before, out of curiosity and the arrogant belief that perhaps he could see something, find something that others before him had missed. Even now the memory sent a shudder down his spine.

It was silent as a tomb there and a strange, foreboding aura lingered around the place. The water was thick and oddly heavy, as if weighed down by some invisible force, by some sort of dark energy suffusing it. Motonari had looked at the crumbling walls of the temple and the broken ground, jagged cracks running through it, and inexplicably, he had been afraid.

He had never thought he would be returning to Honno-ji of his own free will.

“Very well,” Motonari said at last, watching as Oichi put the Stone of Ascension around her neck for safe-keeping until it was time to perform the spell and make the exchange.

With a strange pang in his chest, he thought of Motochika. If he allowed himself, the merman could feel the pirate’s solid presence standing at his back, hands large but gentle as he placed that very same amulet around Motonari’s neck.

His skin still tingled at the memory.

He shook these thoughts off quickly enough, briskly addressing Oichi: “Until we meet again, witch.”

She didn’t reply, merely sank down onto the ground again in much the same position Motonari had first found her in. Pale hands reached for the skull she had dropped and she brought it to her bosom. Just as before, Oichi began stroking it gently, caressing it the way you might a lover.

Sneering at the sad display, Motonari turned to leave.

Behind him, the sea witch began muttering again, her voice a hushed, urgent whisper.

“Everywhere you go, I follow… If you try to run, I’ll catch you,” she hissed, sounding almost threatening. Vaguely alarmed, Motonari hesitated and glanced over his shoulder – but Oichi was not talking to him at all. Instead, she appeared to be talking to the skull in her hands. “I won’t rest until you’re on your deathbed. I won’t stop until I sleep in darkness.”

Not wishing to remain here a second longer than necessary, Motonari began swimming again. As he left her cave, her insane laughter – a haunting sound somewhere between a giggle and a sob – sent a chill down Motonari’s spine and made his blood run cold.

He swam a little faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s plenty of foreshadowing this chapter… You can probably guess what’s going to happen, but Motonari sure as hell won’t see it coming.
> 
> On another note: Motonari’s opinions on Oichi and other characters do not reflect my own. But hopefully you already guessed as much. :P


	11. Rite of Ascension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Motonari returns to King Hideyoshi’s palace with the Stone of Ascension. It needs to be charged before it can be used so when the opportunity arises, he visits the sea witch Oichi to ask for her assistance. His departure rouses the suspicion of Mitsunari and prompts Hanbei to send a spy after him. Oichi consents to help him if he promises to help her find her brother. They agree to meet again at Honno-ji on the day of the ritual.

They moved as one, each individual beat of their tails and each thrust of their weapons perfectly in tune with that of the other soldiers. Their motions flowed seamlessly into one another as they switched from one battle formation to the next, practicing each diligently.

Gazing down from the balcony overlooking the courtyard Hanbei looked on in pride.

He had built a powerful army for the King. Periodically, all able-bodied men were asked to report to the castle where they underwent rigorous training. It was the secret to the overwhelming military success of the Toyotomi forces: strong soldiers befitting King Hideyoshi’s own remarkable strength.

From his elevated position on the balcony each soldier taken on his own looked tiny and insignificant. But together they formed a mighty sea of red and black, a destructive force that Hanbei could direct to strike where he pleased and where it would benefit Hideyoshi’s ambitions the most.

With forces such as these, Hanbei was confident he could expand Hideyoshi’s kingdom to the farthest reaches of the ocean. Hideyoshi would not simply be a King by the time that Hanbei was done. No, he would be the supreme ruler of a vast and glorious empire.

Time, of course, was of the essence.

He had so precious little of it left and what remained of it seemed to slip through his fingers quicker and quicker with every passing day.

Hanbei was becoming desperate.

There was a saying about desperate times calling for desperate measures… One that he felt was terribly fitting for his current situation, considering the difficult choice he was now faced with in light of his worsening condition and the worrying developments regarding Mori Motonari. It was a choice with long-reaching and potentially devastating personal consequences but one that he felt he had to make.

For Hideyoshi’s sake and for the sake of the future they envisioned, Hanbei was willing to endure come what may.

A powerful presence at his side announced the arrival of the very man Hanbei had just been thinking about. Hideyoshi looked large and imposing as always, his arms crossed over a broad chest as he stared down at the practicing soldiers below.

“I thought I might find you here,” Hideyoshi said. If you knew what to look for, there was a hint of amusement discernible underneath his stern tone. Hanbei couldn’t help but smile. “I distinctly recall you saying you were planning on personally supervising the soldiers today.”

“You could say I _am_ supervising – from afar, that is,” Hanbei said lightly. He let his gaze sweep over their assembled troops, knowing that Hideyoshi was doing the same. “Magnificent, aren’t they?”

“You’ve trained them well,” Hideyoshi replied.

Feeling his chest swell with pride at the rare praise, Hanbei said: “Yes, well. They are sure to leave quite the impression on our guests. After the parade, there will be no lingering doubts left in anyone’s mind concerning the prowess of the Toyotomi forces – as it should be.”

“Preparations are going well, then?”

“Exceedingly so,” Hanbei said.

They fell silent and Hanbei returned to his earlier musings.

The Western Sea belonged entirely to King Hideyoshi and parts of the North and South had fallen into his hands in recent months. It was the Eastern Sea that posed the biggest threat, unified under the rule of a single man the way that Hideyoshi controlled the West.

His name was Hojo Ujimasa and though he was getting on in years he was determined to do his ancestors proud and expand the influence of his Clan. They had not engaged in any skirmishes yet, but it was only a matter of time until they clashed.

Should the Toyotomi manage to subdue its biggest rival for absolute supremacy, Hanbei was certain the remaining portions of the North and South would fall into line quickly and without much of a fuss.

However, there was a catch: should the Toyotomi be the ones to initiate hostile action against the Eastern Sea there was no doubt that what remained of the North and the South would ally with the East in outrage. Against their combined forces, the success of the Toyotomi was not guaranteed.

The solution was simple: Hanbei needed to make the East look like the aggressor to give the Toyotomi a good reason to declare war on them.

And with the upcoming visit of an Eastern envoy and his entourage, the perfect opportunity to paint their rivals in an unsavoury light had arisen. Hanbei had devised a plan that would kill two fish with one stone. And unknowingly, Mori Motonari was at the centre of it.

How ironic, that a man who so arrogantly considered all others to be expendable would in turn serve as nothing more than a sacrificial pawn in Hanbei’s ploy.

“You should rest more, Hanbei,” Hideyoshi suddenly said, pulling Hanbei from his thoughts.

The sickly merman turned to look at Hideyoshi, realizing that the King must have been watching him for quite some time. There was no doubt he’d noticed the pallor of Hanbei’s skin and the dark shadows underneath his eyes where his mask did not hide them. Hideyoshi didn’t know of his illness, but apparently he could still pick up on his exhaustion.

“I will rest after this has been dealt with,” Hanbei assured Hideyoshi.

“After this, you’ll immediately want to move on to the next step on your agenda,” Hideyoshi said; his expression mostly unreadable. But Hanbei could detect the hidden concern beneath the stoic facade.

Hanbei chuckled and gave Hideyoshi a rueful smile.

“You know me so well.”

“Why are you always in such a rush?”

Unwilling to reveal the truth to Hideyoshi because he believed the King would never allow him to continue serving him if he knew of his condition, Hanbei said: “I suppose I’m impatient. I want to see it soon – that future you envision.”

Hideyoshi nodded, seeming to accept that. He turned his eyes back to the soldiers moving in unison below. Hanbei’s heart felt heavy as he followed his gaze, no longer able to enjoy the display the way he had before.

“What do you make of the tactician?” Hideyoshi asked. “He’s becoming quite the nuisance.”

Hanbei smiled, the thought of Mori Motonari’s impending fate lifting his spirits.

“Oh, don’t worry. He won’t be a nuisance for very much longer.”

x—x—x

With preparations for the arrival of their guests later that day in full swing, Motonari found himself both terribly busy yet at the same time surprisingly unsupervised.

He had many small errands to attend to – for instance, preparations for the banquet needed to be coordinated and the guards had to be instructed clearly on how to uphold law and order during the event – but with no one checking in on him, Motonari was free to further his own agenda in the breaks between tasks.

Hanbei was apparently too busy to keep an eye on him personally and Yoshitsugu was conspicuously absent as well. He’d seen Mitsunari around, but apart from the occasional glare he had not paid Motonari any mind at all.

There would be a large celebration in the evening and Motonari planned on slipping away unnoticed during the dance performance when everyone’s eyes would be elsewhere. Then he would meet with Oichi at Honno-ji and perform the spell needed to charge the Stone of Ascension.

It was fortunate, that the day the sea witch had set for the ritual happened to coincide with the first day of the Eastern envoy’s visit. Even if rumours of the Stone’s powers turned out to be greatly exaggerated, Motonari could still use such an important historical artefact to gain favour with the East. If not that, he would at least be able to start a conflict between the East and the West, both sides vying for its possession.

Ideally, they would destroy each other, leaving Motonari to ascend to the throne in the wake of their mutual annihilation.

Aki would be his once more.

x—x—x 

Hanbei certainly had spared neither trouble nor expense to thoroughly impress and intimidate their Eastern guests.

Following a lengthy military parade through the streets of the city, the Eastern envoy and his entourage had been led into the great hall where a lavish banquet awaited them. The tables were laden with only the finest and most extravagant dishes prepared by the best cooks the Kingdom had to offer. Anyone with high standing and deep pockets had been invited, lending the event a distinguished atmosphere.

Between the earlier display of military might and the current show of affluence, even Motonari had to admit that opposing the Toyotomi seemed like a daunting prospect. King Hideyoshi had the forces and the funds to crush any and all that dared defy him.

It was for that very reason that Motonari had chosen to yield all those years ago, resolving to usurp the King’s reign from within instead of opposing him directly.

Despite the risk he was taking tonight and the unpleasant repercussions he was sure to face should his plan be discovered, Motonari felt surprisingly calm. He had spent years working towards this day and he should be plagued by anxiety at the thought that one mistake tonight would mean all his efforts had been in vain.

His fate teetered on the edge of a knife, but instead of worrying Motonari felt almost relieved.

He’d waited long enough.

It was hard to keep the elation off his face and harder still to affect an air of offended discontent. Motonari had been seated near the far end of the main table, far removed from the King and his most trusted advisors. Such a seating arrangement was a blatant insult to his status and any other day he would have seethed at the disrespect.

Today, he was glad for it – it would make disappearing during the dance performance much easier.

Practical advantages aside, it also had the added bonus of keeping him far away from the Eastern Envoy and his mindless, noisy blathering. Kuroda Kanbei was a fool – Motonari had always thought so. What had possessed Hojo Ujimasa to send that man of all people to represent him, he could not say.

Motonari could only see it as proof that the general had long since passed his twilight years and would be better off retiring before he further embarrassed himself.

At last, it was time for the dance performance to begin. The best dancers of the Kingdom had been assembled to put together an elaborate choreography showcasing their combined talents. Just as Motonari had hoped, it was riveting enough to ensure none of the people at the table paid his departure any attention. Pleased, Motonari disappeared deeper into the palace.

He never noticed he was not the only one.

x—x—x

Decked out in full armour and carrying his ring blade just in case he ran into trouble with the sea witch later on, Motonari quickly made his way through the palace and towards one of the lesser used exits. Luckily, he knew where the guards were stationed today since he had instructed them personally. Avoiding them was an easy feat and everything was going according to plan.

He never saw the attack coming.

The first kunai whizzed past him and embedded itself in the wall. Motonari reared back, eyes wide. Its sharp edge had barely missed his throat. By the time he turned in the direction the weapon had been launched from, two more were heading his way. Somehow, he managed to dodge one. The other collided with his helmet, bouncing off harmlessly.

He still couldn’t see his attacker.

Motonari drew his ring blade, raising it just in time to deflect another pair of kunai thrown his way. A whole slew of them followed after that, cutting through the water with frightening speed and accuracy. As he struggled to dodge or deflect them all, Motonari grit his teeth and wondered if he was dealing with more than one attacker.

No lone man could attack in such rapid succession. It was simply impossible and Motonari couldn’t even hope to keep up.

After several of them had grazed him and he’d come close to being blinded one time too many, Motonari decided to flee. He took advantage of the first moment’s reprieve he got to dart away, making a break for it. The last time he’d swum this quickly, he’d been followed by a shark.

His attacker still caught up to him, revealing himself at last as he darted past Motonari with unbelievable speed to block his way. His face was hidden almost entirely by a mask and his armour bore the banner of the Eastern Sea. Catching sight of a tail lined with poisonous stingray barbs, Motonari cursed.

He knew this man.

His name was Fuma Kotaro. They called him the Twilight Ninja and he was as mysterious as he was deadly. Tsuruhime was utterly enamoured with him and she’d spent many an hour gushing about his exploits in the service of the Western Sea. Seeing him bear the banner of the East now could only mean one of two things.

One, he had been a spy for the East all along and Hojo Ujimasa had a profound sense of irony, choosing to have him assassinate all key players in the Toyotomi forces on the first day of their supposed peace negotiations. It would explain why the general had chosen to send a representative instead of attending the event personally.

Two, Kotaro had been instructed by the West to assassinate Motonari under the banner of the East to make the greatest rival of the Toyotomi seem responsible for it. It would give King Hideyoshi the perfect excuse to declare war on the Eastern Sea.

At this point, Motonari could not say which explanation was more likely but instinct told him Hanbei was involved. In retrospect, everything had been too easy lately, had gone a little too smoothly – sneaking out of the castle undetected not once but twice, being allowed to place the guards where he wanted… even the seat he had been assigned at the banquet table…

Motonari had wanted to succeed so desperately. He’d been so blind.

And now he was helplessly, hopelessly outmatched.

In a last ditch effort to flee, Motonari turned sharply and shot down a different corridor. Naturally, Kotaro followed. A wild chase through the castle ensued, Motonari darting behind pillars and around corners whenever he could to try and shake the assassin off.

His attention was split between dodging more kunai and remembering exactly where he had stationed the guards to avoid an unwanted collision. He didn’t want to be detected. The guards might be able to help him fight Kotaro off, but Motonari couldn’t afford the questions that were sure to follow.

Even with his life on the line Motonari refused to give up on going to Honno-ji. He _would_ retrieve the Stone of Ascension.

Motonari swam a little faster, cutting through a storage room and emerging on his original path. He put on another burst of speed and practically flew down the hallway, only realizing after a few moments that the attacks had stopped. He dared to glance over his shoulder.

Kotaro was gone.

Knowing better than to slow down for even a second, Motonari faced forward again only to be forced to wrench his ring blade up abruptly to block the swift descent of a ninja-to.

Shock lanced through him and he fumbled a little as Kotaro attacked again, unleashing a rapid onslaught of quick slashes on him with his dual ninja-to. Motonari defended against the assault as best as he could, unable to do anything but block and dodge against such a fast opponent.

Kotaro could cut through water as if it were air.

It was only a matter of time before Motonari’s arms would grow tired and he’d make a mistake. And then Kotaro _would_ kill him.

Loud voices coming from the corridor to the left made both of them freeze. Apparently, the commotion caused by their battle had drawn the attention of the nearby guards. A group of them seemed to be heading this way.

Motonari and Kotaro’s eyes met.

Then they both darted away in opposite directions.

Taking a bit of a detour, Motonari finally made his way to the exit he’d planned to take in the first place. He swam outside and quickly crossed the courtyard, taking advantage of an unguarded service gate to access the city surrounding the palace. Behind him, the alarm conch horn was sounded and he cursed.

Soon, his absence would be noticed. Perhaps it already had. Either way, he couldn’t afford to be stopped now.

He needed to hurry.

Dodging around citizens and attracting quite the attention in his hurry, Motonari made his way through the city. He’d only been swimming for a few minutes when a large shuriken soared over his head, nearly taking off his helmet. The crowds around him screamed and fled and Motonari felt a wave of despair rush through his body.

Kotaro was back to finish the job.

He barely had time to draw his ring blade before the assassin was on him again. They fought as they made their way through the streets, Kotaro attacking with quick slashes and Motonari retaliating with hurried spins and turns of his blade that lacked their usual grace.

The citizens didn’t dare interfere, simply gawking and pointing as the two of them shot past. More than once, he caught snippets of their surprised and fearful exclamations. Clearly, they recognized the danger he was in and they recognized the banner of the East, but none of them stepped in to help.

The one time that a large, burly merman did try to help, Kotaro cleanly cut off his head before resuming the chase.

They left the city behind where their dance continued for much longer than Motonari felt he could take. Already, he’d pushed his body to its limits - he had not fought this much since the Great War.

Desperate and unsure how else to escape, Motonari dove down into the ravine that housed the lair of the sea witch. He hoped to shake Kotaro off in the labyrinthine cave systems that spanned the entire surrounding area. There were plenty of sharp twists and turns down there that he could use to his advantage.

It proved to be unnecessary.

The moment that he disappeared behind the edge of the ravine, Kotaro’s relentless attacks abruptly stopped. Motonari still kept going for a little while longer, unable to believe that Kotaro had simply given up like that.

When he finally judged it safe to glance over his shoulder, Kotaro was nowhere to be found.

Motonari stopped and looked around wildly, his blood rushing loudly in his ears. He let his eyes search every nook and cranny, every dark shadow and nearby crevice in the ravine, but there was absolutely no trace to be found of his attacker.

Cautiously, the merman ascended to the top of the ravine and examined his surroundings. There was nothing but empty space around him for miles, the palace the only thing visible in the distance.

Kotaro had simply vanished.

Deeply unsettled by this eerie turn of events Motonari shuddered a little. His heart was still beating fast and he felt on edge. He had his theories on why Kotaro had come after him, but he did not understand why he had stopped. Motonari shook his head, trying to dispel the sense of unease that had begun to creep up on him. He had to get to Honno-ji.

Midnight was fast approaching.

x—x—x

Honno-ji was just as he remembered it.

Motonari found himself slowing down his brisk pace, the same sense of unease that had overtaken him at Kotaro’s sudden disappearance returning to plague him anew.

The destroyed temple loomed before him like a foreboding memorial site – like a tomb or perhaps a cenotaph, a grim reminder of unknown sins of the past and a silent warning not to let history repeat itself. He felt the same heaviness in the atmosphere he’d experienced on his last visit here and immediately, Motonari found himself wanting to turn back.

He scowled and supressed the urge, quickening his pace again and pushing forwards.

Motonari swam through the main gate and made his way past rubble and collapsed walls, trying not to wonder what could have possibly left such deep, jagged gouges in the floor. He left the entrance area behind, once again noticing the profound emptiness of the temple. No fish dwelled here and plants refused to grow.

In fact, there was no sign of life anywhere.

Absolute silence reigned in the temple, as if whatever gloom lingered in the surrounding waters swallowed any and all sound. And yet Motonari felt as if he could hear whispers – ghostly voices speaking directly inside his mind, insistent but too low to make out any words.

Deeper inside the temple, there was a large courtyard with a circular design in the very centre. Different coloured tiles had been arranged in an emblem he hadn’t been able to place the first time he’d been here. But now that he looked at it again, Motonari thought it looked a little like a stylized flower.

At the opposite side of the courtyard, Oichi was waiting.

She rose up on her many limbs and slowly crawled towards him when she noticed his approach. As always, she appeared oddly feeble, her head strengthlessly tilted to one side at an angle that had to be uncomfortable. They met in the middle of the emblem.

“I’ve been waiting…” Oichi said.

“It’s not midnight yet,” Motonari replied.

Her head lolled to the other side and her dark eyes became hazy. Somehow, she managed to look sad even as her lips twitched into a small smile. “Soon… it will be.”

Before Motonari could ask what exactly the ritual to charge the Stone of Ascension entailed and what he would have to do, a pair of her tentacles reached for the amulet still hanging around her neck and removed it. Reverently, Oichi’s limbs held it out for him to take while her actual arms hung uselessly at her side, gently swaying with the current.

Motonari took the amulet and inspected it closely. It seemed no different from the last time he had seen it. What sort of preparations had the sea witch performed on it?

“Go on,” Oichi whispered, one of her suction-cup bearing limbs sluggishly stretching out towards Motonari’s throat. “Such a pretty stone, such a pretty neck. Don’t you want to wear it?”

Disturbed by her unwanted proximity, Motonari drew back a little. He frowned, unsure if wearing the Stone of Ascension around his neck was part of the ritual. Oichi said nothing when he hesitated – she barely even seemed to be looking at him, her empty eyes staring right through him.

Finally, Motonari fastened the amulet around his neck.

The moment that he did, Oichi’s tentacles began to writhe and squirm along the ground in excitement, even as her upper body remained just as unnaturally limp as always.

“Good, very good – _so,_ _so_ _good_ ,” she muttered, a strange glint in her eyes.

Motonari felt deeply unsettled. Again, the thought of leaving this place behind and never looking back crossed his mind.

But the Stone of Ascension needed to be charged. He refused to leave before he had accomplished what he had set out to do. Besides, he had a weapon and the sea witch did not… in fact, she was hardly in full control of her mental faculties. She had her magic, but Motonari was sure he could easily outwit her.

What harm could she possibly do him?

“What now?” Motonari said, sounding slightly impatient. He had made his decision to stay, but he did not wish to linger here a single moment longer than absolutely necessary for the sake of the ritual.

“Now… I must accept a great burden…” the sea witch said as if lost in a dream.

He had been about to question her cryptic words but one of her hands suddenly shot up. It had been empty just a few seconds ago, but now it was holding a ritual knife. Reacting swiftly, Motonari brought up his ring blade in defence – but the sea witch made no move to attack him.

Instead, she brought the blade down on her own arm, cutting a slow, precise line into the crook of her elbow. She never even flinched.

Still on edge, Motonari watched as her blood flowed freely from the cut. Oichi dropped the knife and swayed ominously from side to side, whispering nonsense to herself.

“Blood of your blood… blood of your blood… _blood of your blood_ …”

Horrified and fascinated in equal measure, Motonari watched as her blood slowly sank to the stone floor instead of being carried away by the current and dispersing into the water. It formed an oddly thick, ever growing pool of red in the centre of the emblem. Slowly, her blood spread out along the lines of the stylized flower, bringing it to life.

Oichi was still whispering.

“ _On a summer evening that’s already too short_  
_the little cuckoo calls out its sweet song_  
 _beckoning the reaper…”_

The blood kept flowing, painting the flower on the ground a brilliant red. Motonari shivered, clutching his ring blade tightly. The amulet resting against his skin was beginning to grow warm, emitting a dull blue glow that steadily grew brighter the hotter the amulet burned.

Motonari wanted to wrench it away when the heat became nearly unbearable, but he found that he couldn’t move.

He’d become trapped inside the flower of blood, the design nearing its completion with every passing moment.

“ _On a summer evening that’s already too short_  
_the little cuckoo calls out its sweet song_  
 _beckoning the reaper…”_

Oichi’s whispering had turned into a frenzied chant, her many limbs contorting themselves and writhing around the rest of her body as if they had a mind of her own. It was a frightening sight and Motonari wondered if he had made a terrible mistake coming to the sea witch for help.

He wanted to command her to stop – he couldn’t. His mouth opened and closed, but his voice was not cooperating and no sound came out.

The merman could only watch in horror as one last drop of blood fell. The moment it made contact with the rest of the design, it erupted with bright red light. The very earth shook and Motonari’s mouth flew open in a silent scream.

It _burned._

It felt as if the Stone of Ascension was burning a hole into his chest. Pain spread through his upper body, clawing at his rib cage and travelling all the way down into his tail and to the very tips of his fins.

He felt as if he was being torn apart – as if his very being was forced to split in two along its seam.

“ _On a summer evening that’s already too short_  
_the little cuckoo calls out its sweet song_  
 _beckoning the reaper…”_

An ominous aura had formed around Oichi, different from the ink cloud she always surrounded herself in. The shadows around her were lined with a purple glow and almost seemed to be alive. She was shaking, clutching at her head and pulling on her hair.

“No… no… yes… _no…_ ” she muttered while Motonari tried not to black out from the pain. Suddenly, her head whipped up, revealing glowing eyes. “Yes… _Yes…!_ ”

The shadows around her took form, shooting outwards and taking on the form of several large, demonic arms.

“Ascend!” she cried. “ _Ascend…!”_

A large crack appeared in the ground at her words and spires of stone shot up from the depths below. Oichi raised her hands and threw her head back.

Motonari couldn’t tell if she was laughing or sobbing.

Another quake shook the ground as if the very earth itself was rebelling against the thing trying to claw its way up from its depths. Around them, what remained of Honno-ji crumbled, the entire scene cast in an eerie red light. Pillars fell and walls collapsed to the sound of Oichi’s insane laughter.

Again, Motonari thought he could hear voices inside his head – but now they were screaming. The Stone of Ascension burned a bright blue colour against his chest.

Just as suddenly as it had started, it all stopped.

Oichi slumped forward like a puppet with is strings cut and fell silent, her hair a long, dark curtain hiding her face. Around his neck, the Stone of Ascension was still shining brightly but the pain had stopped. The ground was no longer shaking and nothing but silence filled Motonari’s head.

And then… a man’s voice, dark and imposing, reverberating around inside his skull.

“ _Should the bird’s song end_  
_from the abyss of dark nothingness_  
 _shall I emerge.”_

Abruptly, the pain was back. Motonari screamed until his throat was sore but still he could not make a single sound. Whatever was happening to him – he was sure if it did not kill him the agony he was experiencing would drive him insane and destroy his mind the way the mind of the sea witch had been destroyed.

As if she had heard his thoughts, Oichi slowly raised her head to fix Motonari with a blank, empty stare.

The last thing he saw were countless dark hands rushing towards him.

x—x—x

Up on the surface, the Captain of the Rising Sun arrived at the spot where his next meeting with Mori Motonari was scheduled to take place. He waited.

And waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Motonari screwed up big time.
> 
> To anyone who expected Ieyasu to be the ruler of the Eastern Sea: he’ll have his part to play later on in the story.


	12. Metamorphosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: During a celebration held in honour of a visiting envoy from the East, Motonari slips away unnoticed to meet with Oichi at Honno-ji. On his way out of the castle, he is attacked by Fuma Kotaro – a legendary assassin employed by the West but curiously bearing the banner of the East. He manages to escape. At Honno-ji, they perform the ritual to charge the Stone of Ascension – with unexpected consequences…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning – dastardly abuse of italics ahead.
> 
> Writing this chapter was incredibly tough. I kept getting stuck and had to rewrite several sections. Slight spoiler: There’s a POV change, too. Motonari POV is incredibly easy for me to write. This… was not.

A terrible storm had broken over the Western Sea.

It had been brewing all day, a wall of dark clouds gathering ominously on the horizon. Now rain was pouring down from the overcast sky in thick sheets whipped about by the howling wind. Every couple of seconds another bolt of lightning painted a bright, jagged line against the clouds. Thunder rolled in the distance, sounding closer each time.

Midnight had come and gone.

The time for Mori Motonari to arrive at their meeting spot had long since passed but still the Rising Sun lay in wait, tossed about by the waves as if it were a much smaller ship. It was built to withstand all kinds of harsh weather but as any other vessel it ran the risk of sinking should the tempest smash it into the rocks treacherously hidden underneath the surface.

The storm was too severe to safely remain this close to the shore but Motochika had yet to give the signal to retreat.

He was waiting.

“Cap’n!” Tani Tadasumi yelled loudly, his voice barely audible over the storm. He was clutching one of the metal rings embedded into the wood in various places on the ship to serve as a handhold precisely in case the Rising Sun was ever caught in a storm this bad. “We need t’ get out o’ here! We’d be mad t’ stay!”

“Not yet!” Motochika yelled back from where he’d taken position on the highest point of the ship, precariously keeping his balance as he peered through a small telescope. He was soaked to the bone and his fingers were starting to go numb but still he chose to brave the elements, always on the lookout for a flash of pale skin or a hint of green scales among the waves.

“Thar’s no point t’ lin’erin’ here – he’s not comin’ back!”

“He got delayed, that’s all!” Motochika replied firmly, sounding far more confident than he felt. The air of finality that had marked their last goodbye weighed heavily on his mind and had done so for days now.

Motonari had not seemed as if he intended to ever return to the surface.

Worse, there was every chance that someone had seen through the merman’s disguise. What little Motochika knew of Motonari’s King was enough to understand that his disobedience would not go unpunished.

If the merman was lucky, he had been executed. If not, he was likely doomed to spend the rest of his life rotting in a prison cell. And without fins and a tail of his own, Motochika could not dive down into the sea to either rescue or avenge him.

He never should have agreed to let the merman have that accursed amulet.

“Yer foolin’ yerself and yer gonna get us all killed!” Tadasumi screamed, pulling Motochika from his grim thoughts. “D’ya really think he’s worth it?!”

Motochika grit his teeth tightly and refused to remove his gaze from the raging waters.

“Quit your whining and tell the men to hold their positions,” he shot back. “We’ve had worse. This is nothin’ but a breeze!”

“Even if he _does_ turn up, ye won’t stand a chance o’ spottin’ him in this weather!”

“I told you to _shut yer mouth!”_

“Cap’n, listen—“

But Motochika had stopped listening.

It was only for the briefest of moments but he was certain he had caught sight of something smooth and green amidst the churning waves.

He refused to believe his mind had played a trick on him.

Frantically, Motochika let his gaze rove over the surrounding area, hoping to catch another glimpse. It was a dark night, only illuminated periodically by quick flashes of lightning – it didn’t make his search any easier.

“There!” he said triumphantly when he saw it again.

Between the waves, Motochika could make out the distinct shape of the strange helmet Motonari was so fond of. A large grin stole its way onto his face and he laughed loudly, pocketing his telescope and hopping down from his high perch.

“Cap’n! It’s him!” a different member of his crew yelled, clutching the railing with one hand while pointing towards the merman excitedly. “It’s Mori! He’s back!”

“Of course he is,” Motochika replied brashly, all of the doubts and worries that had plagued him these last few days leaving him in a rush of dizzy, breathless relief.

He’d been right to wait.

Without needing to be prompted, Tadasumi yelled for a rope so they could pull the merman on board. Leaving his men to their task Motochika approached the railing to stare down into the water with giddy excitement. He couldn’t wait to tease Motonari about his late arrival.

As Motochika peered into the water Motonari’s helmet disappeared. It emerged again only a moment later before being tossed about by the waves like a piece of driftwood.

Motochika’s smile froze.

“Cap’n, we’re ready,” a man suddenly standing at his side informed him. Motochika barely even heard him.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Cap’n…?”

Overcome with a terrible suspicion, Motochika gripped the railing and hoisted himself up.

“ _Cap’n!_ ”

Ignoring the alarmed cries of his crew, he threw himself into the water below, diving into its depths despite the danger the sea posed to anyone trying to swim in it when it was like this.

Somehow, he managed to make his way towards the drifting helmet. When he grabbed it, his fears were proven to be justified – his helmet was there, but there was no sign of Motonari himself.

“Damn it,” Motochika snarled. Then he turned back to the Rising Sun, raising the helmet up high. “Catch!” he yelled at the top of his lungs before chucking the helmet up and towards where his crew was standing. His men pleaded with him to take the rope and get out of the water but Motochika ignored them.

Seeing that they had caught the hideous thing successfully, the pirate took a deep breath and dove down into the turbulent waters – much to the horror of his crew.

The salty sea water burned in his remaining eye and he could barely see a thing. But he kept pushing forward anyway, determined to find Motonari and bring him to safety. He could only assume the merman had been injured again – perhaps he’d had another confrontation with a shark, or maybe Motochika had been right to suspect that he had gotten caught.

Either way, it was entirely possible that the merman had lost consciousness due to blood loss or head trauma. Motochika needed to find him quickly.

Spotting the ring blade Motonari had brought to their meetings on occasion, Motochika pulled it free from where it was embedded in the sand and broke the surface again.

“Out of the way!” he yelled in warning before throwing the weapon onto the deck.

A moment later, he resumed his search, ignoring the way his eye burned and his lungs ached in protest. The water around him was freezing and fighting the torrent was difficult, but Motochika was fuelled by a surge of adrenaline and a desperate need to find Motonari.

Up ahead, he saw a bright blue light shining in the water.

Following a hunch, he swam towards it only to catch sight of something long and green as he approached. Immediately, he rushed to swim closer, realizing it was one of the strange, sleeve-like arm guards the merman insisted on wearing.

Motonari’s eyes were closed and his mouth was open, his hair floating gently in the water. His arms hung limply at his sides and he was very clearly out cold. The blue light that had led him to the merman emanated from an amulet around his neck – the very same amulet that Motochika had given him.

The light wasn’t bright enough for Motochika to make out any injuries… but what he  _could_ make out nearly stopped his heart.

Instead of the tail and the fins of a fish, Motonari now possessed a pair of flawlessly white legs.

Human.

Motonari was  _human_ .

Motochika’s thoughts came to a screeching halt and for a precious moment or two he froze, unable to cope with the shock. Then the pirate realized with a terrible jolt that he was slowly running out of breath and if Motonari had lost his ability to survive under water along with his tail, the merman would not be faring any better.

There was no time to waste; every second counted.

Faster than before Motochika shot towards Motonari and pulled him close to his chest, his arms wrapping around him from behind. Motonari never even stirred. Refusing to consider the possibility that he had been too late, Motochika made his way towards the surface.

He broke it with a gasp, adjusting his grip on Motonari so his head was propped up against his shoulder and safely out of the water. His own panting breaths were loud in his ears, a stark contrast to Motonari’s absolute stillness. Motochika gritted his teeth and focused on getting Motonari to safety.

Keeping his arms locked underneath Motonari’s armpits, Motochika used a series of powerful kicks of his legs to approach the Rising Sun. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to rescue someone from drowning and compared to his crew, Motonari was slight and easy to handle. It was the adverse weather conditions that made things impossibly difficult.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time Motochika finally reached the rope his men had thrown down into the water for him. He took hold of it and wound it around his arm several times to ensure he would not lose his grip.

“Ready – pull! _I said pull!”_ he yelled over the raging wind, clutching the lifeless form of Motonari tightly to his body. 

Up on the deck, half a dozen men held the other end of the rope, grunting with effort and trying not to lose their footing on the slippery wood as they slowly but surely pulled both Motochika and Motonari out of the water.

Several hands shot out to help him climb onto the ship when he reached the railing. The moment his feet hit solid ground, he laid Motonari out on the deck, wincing when his palms brushed over impossibly smooth skin instead of the scales he had come to expect.

Motonari’s unsettling transformation was, of course, the least of his worries right now. They’d deal with it. As long as Motonari was alive, they would find a way to deal with it. Spurred on by these thoughts, Motochika frantically inspected Motonari for injuries – there were none – and then checked the merman’s breathing.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

“His—his tail…!” someone said, sounding just as perturbed as Motochika felt. “It’s gone. Is it really Mori…?”

“Is he dead?” someone else asked nervously, prompting a sharp glare from Motochika.

“Don’t just stand there and gawk!” he snapped, two fingers pressed against Motonari’s pulse point to check if his heart was at least still beating. “Get us _the hell_ away from shore!” He turned to Tadasumi. “You’re in charge. Get the Rising Sun to safety – _now!_ ”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Tadasumi said, already turning to the rest of the crew with a determined look on his face. “Ye hear that, ye scurvy bilge rats?! Time to bail. Take yer positions! Go, _go!_ ”

Tadasumi continued shouting orders over the chaos of the storm but Motochika blocked out all sound. All he could focus on was the weak heartbeat underneath his fingertips – faint, but undeniably there.

Motonari was alive, if barely.

“Come on,” Motochika hissed, shaking Motonari before harshly slapping his cheek in a desperate attempt to jolt him awake. When that failed to work, he pressed his palms against Motonari’s chest and began pushing down rhythmically. But the amulet around Motonari’s neck kept getting in the way and with a snarl Motochika ripped it off and tossed it aside.

He couldn’t stand to look at the damn thing right now.

With increased fervour, Motochika continued where he had left off.

“Come on, you bastard, _come on_ – breathe _,_ you arrogant, stuck-up, tight-assed _prick!_ ”

Just when Motochika bent down to personally breathe air into Motonari’s lungs, his pleas were answered: the man beneath him lurched and abruptly began to cough up water. Quickly, Motochika slid an arm underneath his shoulders to help him sit up and make it easier for him to spit out the water he’d swallowed.

“Easy, there – easy,” he said soothingly while Motonari made a valiant effort to cough up an entire lung. When panicked hands began to swat at him, Motochika just tightened his grip. He couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet. “It’s just me. Mori, it’s me. Calm down, I’ve got you.”

Slowly, Motonari’s coughing fit subsided and Motochika stopped crowding him quite so much. He felt dizzy and sort of light-headed with relief, hoping Motonari would not notice the way his hands shook.

“C-Cho—“ Motonari choked out, his voice sounding hoarse and utterly ruined. One of his hands was clutching at his chest, his fingers digging into the spot where the amulet had rested just a couple moments before.

“Yeah,” Motochika said, delighted to see Motonari’s chest rise and fall with every laboured breath he took but beginning to worry about the blue tint to his lips. “It’s alright, you’re safe.”

But Motonari wasn’t listening to him.

He was staring at his new legs with an expression of such abject horror that it told Motochika everything he needed to know: whatever had happened to make the merman like this, it hadn’t been by choice. This had been done against his will, and perhaps even without his knowledge.

A surge of anger went through Motochika, hot and sudden. Whoever had done this… they had better pray his path would never cross theirs.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Motochika said, preparing to pick Motonari up.

He froze when Motonari spoke.

“Where is it?” he rasped, sounding every bit as wrecked as he looked.

Motochika winced, something in his chest seizing up painfully at the question. He could only imagine what it was like to wake up only to find your body so thoroughly altered. Losing an eye did not quite compare, he thought, and that had been difficult enough.

“…Let’s just get you inside,” Motochika said to avoid answering that question. “We need to get you someplace warm.”

He hoisted Motonari up and did his best to ignore that he was nude save for his arm guards. Now was certainly not the time to be noticing these things. And it certainly was not the time to be contemplating—

“The stone,” Motonari clarified, beginning to struggle against Motochika’s hold. “Where is it?”

“What?” Motochika yelled over the storm, unsure if he’d misheard. Had Motonari really asked after that damn amulet instead of worrying about _his missing tail?_

“The Stone of Ascension – _where is it?”_ Motonari repeated, insistently. Lightning struck and briefly illuminated the night, allowing Motochika to see that the merman’s eyes were wide and wild, almost panicked.

It was more emotion than he had ever seen from Motonari.

Concerned for Motonari’s well-being but willing to at least check for the stone, Motochika glanced off to the side, letting his gaze sweep over the deck briefly – but there was no sign of that bright blue glow he’d seen around Motonari’s neck earlier.

“It was here just a second ago,” he said, keeping his hold on Motonari steady even when a powerful wave rocked the ship. “Must’ve slid off the deck. Listen, we gotta—“

“Find it,” Motonari said, shouting over the thunder rolling overhead. “I need it back!”

Motochika shook his head and frowned, beginning to make his way towards the door leading into the ship. “What you  _need_ is to get inside and—“

“I said _find it!”_ Motonari yelled, his fingers digging harshly into Motochika’s shoulder as he stared up at him. Motochika didn’t like the look in his eyes.

“You’re crazy,” Motochika yelled back, nearly losing his balance when the Rising Sun abruptly lurched to the side. “It’s gone. Looking for it in this weather would be begging for death!”

“You don’t understand—“

“I understand enough—“

“Cap’n!” someone yelled, drawing Motochika’s attention. “Look!”

One of his men had his arm outstretched, pointing towards the bow of the ship. A crow was perched atop the Rising Sun’s demonic figurehead, watching them. From its beak dangled the Stone of Ascension, glowing bright blue in the dark of the night.

“A crow?!” someone else shouted. “Out here… in this weather?!”

“Let go,” Motonari demanded, suddenly surging forward to break free from Motochika’s grasp. “I said _let go!”_

“Mori, don’t—“

Another wave hit the ship. The Rising Sun tipped to the side under the onslaught, water sloshing over its railing.

“ _Shit!”_ Motochika cursed as he lost his footing on the slippery wood.

Pain exploded across the back of his skull and for a moment, his vision went dark. When he regained his senses, it was to find his arms empty and one of his men at his side. He groaned, grimacing – then he abruptly sat up straight, scanning the deck.

Where was Motonari?

“Cap’n, you alright?” the man beside him yelled over the roar of the wind.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Motochika yelled back as his gaze zeroed in on the man he’d been looking for.

Feeling sort of woozy but figuring he’d had worse, Motochika took the helping hand he was offered and got to his feet. Motonari was up ahead, digging his fingers into the wood and dragging himself forward inch by inch. That accursed amulet seemed to beckon him forward like the call of a siren, to the point where he seemed to have lost all sense for danger.

Motonari wasn’t using his legs properly, keeping them pressed together and moving them as a unit instead of individually – as if they were a tail. They flopped around uselessly, doing nothing at all to help Motonari’s slow journey along the ground. It seemed he didn’t know yet how to operate his new limbs. Motochika wondered if he ever would.

He clenched his teeth tightly, angrily.

“Damn it, Mori,” he muttered and began moving towards him, careful not to lose his footing again.

By the time Motochika got there Motonari had reached the railing, looking very much like he fully intended to pull himself on top of it to reach the crow. He would kill himself trying to get that damn stone back; Motochika had no doubt about that.

It was time to intervene.

Seeing him approach, the crow hopped onto the cannon and further out of reach. Motonari whipped his head around to glare at Motochika over his shoulder, looking livid.

“You’re chasing it away, you fool! Stay back!” he commanded, bristling when Motochika ignored his order and closed the distance between them.

“You’re nuts, you know that, right?” Motochika asked. Motonari just glared harder.

Pulling Motonari to his feet was easy; the brunet didn’t weigh much. Keeping him on his feet was a far more difficult task. His legs didn’t seem to want to support him, buckling under him the very moment Motochika made to release him. Motochika decided it was safer to keep his hands right where they were despite the icy look Motonari shot him at the prolonged contact.

“What are you gonna do? Climb that cannon, go after your damn stone? You can’t even _stand_ ,” Motochika said urgently, trying to pull Motonari away from the railing. The brunet responded by clutching the wood tightly. “Just let it go, Mori.”

“ _No_ ,” Motonari ground out.

“I said _let it go!_ Are you really gonna risk your life for that thing?” Motochika said, doing his best to pry Motonari’s fingers away. “You’re smarter than this!”

“You don’t understand! I can’t go back, Chosokabe. That ritual, it transformed me. And if there’s any hope at all of reversing the process… surely I’ll need the Stone of Ascension. Without it, I can’t—“ Motonari’s voice broke and Motochika froze in sudden understanding.

Motonari just wanted his tail back.

He just wanted to go home.

When lightning struck again and illuminated Motonari’s face, Motochika saw that desperation and sorrow had replaced his earlier anger. Here was a man who only now seemed to be realizing the magnitude of what had been done to him, and quite frankly, it was a terrible sight to behold.

Motochika had never seen Motonari like this before – it was unsettling.

“I _need_ it back,” Motonari repeated.

“Mori…” Motochika said, lowly.

“’s too dangerous out here for him, Cap’n,” a nearby member of his crew yelled. “An’ climbing that cannon’s not safe fer anybody righ’ now! Him _or_ you!” 

“I know that,” Motochika called back, but he still glanced at the crow, thinking. The bird was not within immediate reach, but with a little skill and a lot of luck there was a chance he could retrieve the stone. It was risky… but not entirely impossible.

“Y’need to get him inside, _now!_ ”

Motochika hesitated, deaf to the words of his men as he continued to eye the crow, carefully gauging the distance he had to cover to reach it. If he fell off the cannon while the ship was moving, there was little doubt he’d get caught beneath the bulk of the Rising Sun. He would drown, unable to escape the undertow. He would  _die_ .

He could not believe he was actually considering this.

He couldn’t believe he even  _needed_ to consider it.

It was obvious what needed to be done.

“Jus’ forget about that thing! There’s plenty o’ riches t’ be had at sea!”

Motochika was the only person crazy enough and dumb enough to try and get that stupid amulet back for Motonari. If he didn’t, no one would. And then Motonari would never go home again.

He needed to get up on that cannon and he needed to get that stone back.

“Don’t do it, Cap’n! ’s not worth risking yer life for!”

It was the honourable thing to do. It was the  _right_ thing to do.

And yet he was wavering.

Not because he feared for his life. Motochika was reckless by nature – though usually not self-destructively so, unlike an old friend of his – and as a pirate, he risked life and limb every day. No, it wasn’t cowardice that stayed his hand and kept his feet rooted to the spot.

It was selfishness.

He didn’t want to see Motonari leave again. And if that meant dooming him to an unhappy life on land as a human through his inaction, then—

“Chosokabe,” Motonari said and Motochika made the mistake of turning to look at him.

A thin, pale face stared up at him, lips pinched tight and brows drawn together in a frown, making sharp features look sharper still. Motonari had the air of someone bracing himself for something truly unpleasant and Motochika dreaded what he might say next.

Motonari sounded strained when he spoke again, as if it physically pained him to force that single word up his throat and past his lips.

“… _Please._ ”

_Damn it_ , Motochika thought as the internal battle he’d been fighting was decided in one fell swoop.

“Hikoji!” he hollered, beckoning the man closest to them over with a jerk of his head. “I could use a hand here!”

The man approached on unsteady feet, gripping the railing for support when he arrived. His face was weather-beaten and tan from days spent out on the deck under the unforgiving glare of the sun, but now he looked suspiciously ashen.

“Cap’n, we be beggin’ you here. You can’t be planning to—“

“But I _am_ ,” Motochika cut him off firmly but not unkindly. Pushing Motonari into the other man’s arms and purposefully ignoring the merman’s scandalized expression at being manhandled in such a manner, he added: “Hold on tight. Don’t let go. And keep all groping to a minimum.”

With that, Motochika hoisted himself up on the railing for the second time that night.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Hikoji said, grinning now, if a bit weakly.

“ _Groping,”_ Motonari repeated flatly, stiff as a board in Hikoji’s hold.

Crouching on the railing and ready to climb up onto the Rising Sun’s main cannon to risk life and limb, Motochika cocked an eyebrow at Motonari and pointedly said: “You’re naked. It’s tempting.”

Motonari bristled, glaring daggers.

“…Just hurry,” he bit out.

Laughing, Motochika turned and climbed onto the cannon. His humour faded the moment his back was turned. He stayed crouched to present as little a target to the wind as possible, hands firmly on the cannon to keep him steady as he inched forward. The metal was slippery with rain and each time a particularly strong gust of wind hit him Motochika thought he might fall.

He never did.

The crow simply watched, its head tilting to the side. It made no move to flee, sitting motionless and seemingly unbothered by the storm.  _Just a little further_ , Motochika thought, slowly raising a hand. The crow ducked its head. Abruptly, Motochika lurched forward, making a grab for the amulet.

He missed.

The crow took off, trailing feathers as it disappeared into the night. “ _Shit_ ,” Motochika said, overbalancing and nearly falling off the cannon.

“No! No, _no!_ ”

Motochika turned, hair whipping into his face, to see Motonari struggling against Hikoji’s grip. “It’s gone,” Hikoji said, seemingly having trouble restraining Motonari. “There’s nothing you or anyone can do—“

Kiromaru shot past Hikoji, squawking loudly. Motochika watched wide-eyed as the parrot flew straight over his head. The amulet’s glow was still visible, bright against the dark night sky and Kiromaru chased after it as recklessly as his owner might have.

“Get back here! Kiromaru!” Motochika yelled.

But neither bird returned. With a sharp pang, Motochika realized that he’d lost Kiromaru. There was no way the parrot would be able to catch up to the crow in a storm this vicious. Even if he could, the chances of him returning safely were slim.

“Damn it,” Motochika cursed, punching the cannon.

“Cap’n! ‘S not _safe!”_ Hikoji called out to him and Motochika scrambled back onto the ship.

His heart was still pounding wildly in his chest when his feet hit solid ground again. He could have died. The amulet was gone.  _Kiromaru_ was gone.

And Motonari was stuck as a human.

Motochika could not quite convince himself to view that last one as such a bad thing. In fact, he was almost relieved to have failed.

Slowly, he looked up to meet Motonari’s gaze. Disbelief was written clear across that pale face – disbelief and a stubborn refusal to accept what had just happened. Immediately, Motochika felt guilty.

He swallowed heavily.

“…Sorry.”

Motonari slapped him.

“You incompetent—“

“Whoa, hey!” Hikoji said and wrenched Motonari back, preventing him from hitting Motochika again. His face was twisted up in anger as he shook Motonari. “The hell d’ya think ya doin’, ya bilge rat?”

“That’s enough, Hikoji,” Motochika said once the initial surprise had worn off. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “He’s just lost something precious.”

“That’s no excuse—“

“I agree,” Motochika said, staring Motonari down. His shoulders were slightly hunched and his head was ducked defensively as if he expected Motochika to retaliate with a blow of his own. Still, he did not look apologetic in the slightest, unrepentantly glaring at him. After a tense moment of silence, Motochika added: “But I’ll let it slide, just this once.”

Despite saying that, Motochika’s grip was rougher than usual when he took Motonari off Hikoji’s hands and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

“Don’t—“

When Motonari began to protest, Motochika narrowed his eye and dug his fingers harshly into the back of Motonari’s thigh. Motonari recognized the action as the silent threat it was meant to be taken as and thankfully shut up.

With gritted teeth, Motochika carried Motonari off and into the interior of the ship.

x—x—x

By the time they reached Motochika’s cabin, Motonari had gone still and silent. He sat on the ground and stared into space, looking absolutely miserable as he dripped water everywhere. Motochika wasn’t faring much better. He was soaked to the bone and feeling quite morose, unsure what to say.

His cheek still stung.

“Oi, Mori.”

There was no reaction. Motonari was unresponsive and pale, lips disconcertingly blue. He was shaking badly and yet he made no move to wrap his arms around himself for warmth – he didn’t even think to cover himself for decency’s sake.

Motochika grit his teeth.

The last time he’d felt this powerless—

A knock on the door put a stop to that particular line of thought before he could begin to wallow in the past.

“Come in,” Motochika called, prompting one of his men to enter the room. In his hands he carried a number of towels and an extra blanket, as requested earlier. Motochika shot him a tired, grateful smile. “Thank you,” he said, taking one of the towels from him. “Just put the rest on the table.”

“Will you be needin’ anythin’ else?” the man asked, having completed his task.

Motochika shook his head. “No, that’ll be all for now.”

The man nodded and threw Motonari a pitying look before leaving the room. Motochika sighed and knelt down behind Motonari, setting the towel down on the ground for now. Carefully, he undid the knot holding Motonari’s arm guards together in the back before sliding his arms around his shoulders to undo the front.

An uncomfortable lump formed in Motochika’s throat when Motonari didn’t protest at all. It just wasn’t right.

Silently, he moved on to the clasps keeping Motonari’s armour fixed to his arms. Touching him was unavoidable as he undid them, removing one arm guard after the other. Any other day, he might have secretly relished in the contact; perhaps he even might have lingered a little longer than strictly necessary. Right now, all it did was worry him.

Motonari’s skin was cold as ice.

At least he was still shivering: a sign that his body hadn’t shut down completely yet and was still trying to generate heat. Chances were he’d live.

With Motonari’s armour out of the way, Motochika reached for the towel. “Alright, let’s get you dried off,” he muttered. It felt a lot like talking to himself when he added: “You’re a real idiot, you know that? Doesn’t matter how big you think your brain is. You’re still a dumb fuck. Dumbest fuck I’ve ever met, in fact.”

He didn’t receive a reply.

He hadn’t really expected one.

Still feeling frustrated, Motochika dropped the towel onto Motonari’s head and roughly began to dry his hair off. The action finally got a reaction out of Motonari: he made a soft noise of protest and tried to move away. Immediately, Motochika’s touch gentled.

“Hold still,” he told Motonari. “I gotta do this. You’ll get sick if I don’t.”

Miraculously, Motonari obeyed.

As Motochika worked his gaze fell to Motonari’s shoulder. The shark bite he had suffered a while ago still hadn’t healed properly. Motochika’s hands stilled. A droplet of water slid free from Motonari’s hair and Motochika found himself tracking its slow progress down the brunet’s nape and along the curve of his spine.

He watched as it dipped lower… and lower…

Abruptly, Motochika let the now soaked towel drop and got to his feet. He retrieved a dry towel from the table and firmly reminded himself that this was neither the time nor the place. When he turned back to Motonari he was startled to find the brunet looking at him over his shoulder.

Motonari couldn’t possibly know what he’d been thinking. The notion still made him uncomfortable. Motochika cleared his throat.

“Here,” he said, holding the towel out to Motonari.

But Motonari made no move to take it, his expression frighteningly blank. He seemed to be staring right through Motochika, no sign of awareness in his eyes. Fresh worry churning in his gut and unsure what else to do, Motochika knelt at Motonari’s side and haltingly continued to dry him off.

He started with his back and then moved on to his arms, hating how they dropped back down limply to rest against Motonari’s sides the moment he let go of them. Gritting his teeth, Motochika turned his attention to drying off Motonari’s chest. It was then that he noticed it: an angry red spot in the centre of it. It looked like a burn mark of sorts, located in the exact same spot the amulet had been resting against earlier.

Motochika doubted it was a coincidence.

“How’d you get this?” he asked, very lightly tapping a finger against the tender skin. Motonari flinched away from his touch. “…Sorry. Guess it hurts, huh?”

He received no response. All Motonari did was hunch his shoulders a little and stare at his lap.

Motochika resisted the temptation to follow his line of sight.  _There is a time and a place_ , he reminded himself. Taking care not to look, Motochika ran the towel from Motonari’s chest down to his stomach and lower abdomen. When he went lower still, Motonari made a soft noise that Motochika chose to ignore for the sake of his sanity.

A squeamish sensation settled in the pit of his stomach when he moved on to Motonari’s legs. They were nicely shaped and unblemished, with thin ankles and small feet. One could not call them misshapen in the slightest but looking at them still made Motochika feel vaguely sick.

It just wasn’t right.

“You can talk to me, you know,” he said, the offer out of his mouth before he could think better of it. When nothing but silence greeted him, he sighed. “…Damn it, Mori. What the hell did you do?”

There was a knock on the door. Motochika looked up, saying: “Enter.”

The man at the door looked apologetic, resembling a drowned rat as he stood there shivering with his wet hair plastered to his skin. Motochika got the distinct impression that he was uncomfortable having to interrupt.

“Cap’n, sorry t’ disturb… But Tadasumi’s asking for you. Told me t’ send you up, if possible.”

“Of course,” Motochika said as he rose to his feet. Quickly, he draped a blanket around Motonari’s shoulders and bundled him up in it tightly. Clasping the side of his neck with one hand and letting his own fierce gaze bore into Motonari’s empty one, Motochika promised: “You’re gonna be fine. We’ll work something out.”

Then he turned to the man still hovering by the door somewhat awkwardly, his gaze respectfully trained on the wall to keep from staring.

“Stay with him,” Motochika said to him. “There are more blankets on the table. Wrap him up in those, make him lie down. See to it that he’s kept warm. Should his condition worsen, inform me at once.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n!”

With one last look over his shoulder, Motochika stepped out to weather the storm.

x—x—x

He turned the Stone of Ascension over in his hand with great care, admiring its glow. Silver moonlight played across the smooth blue surface and as he brought the amulet closer to his face he caught a glimpse of his own reflection. He smiled.

A terrible storm raged in the distance  but here, at the temple, the night air was calm and quiet.

“You’ve done well today,” he said, pleased. “Of course, I would expect nothing less of one gifted with skills such as yours.”

Perched on the roof above the door leading out onto the balcony, a crow cocked its head to the side in acknowledgement of the praise.

“Such a precious thing; is it not?” the man went on. “Nothing but a pretty bauble in the hands of the ignorant… But to those who know of the secrets it holds, the Stone’s worth is immeasurable. Truly, it is a magnificent addition to my collection. Wouldn’t you agree?”

The crow remained silent, not moving from its spot. The man laughed; a low, amused sound.

“Silent, as always. It’s strange, isn’t it? All things in life are subject to change, be it through self-actualization or through the simple inevitability of decay… yet somehow, you seem exempt from this universal truth. I wonder. How do you achieve such a thing?”

There was no reply.

“No matter. Being as you are, I would never think you capable of appreciating worldly possessions, regardless of their monetary or sentimental value. Perhaps yours is the right path. Perhaps it is useless to cling to material things, as humans are wont to do. We cannot bring our prized possessions into the next world, after all. Even I am no exception to this.”

He firmly closed his fist around the Stone of Ascension, hiding its glow in the palm of his hand.

“Of course, a shadow such as yourself would not need to dwell on these matters of finitude. You, who walk freely between worlds, need not concern yourself with the reality that nothing in this world is everlasting. Isn’t that right—“

The man turned and looked up at the roof. The crow was gone. In its place was a man wearing a mask covering half his face.

“—Fuma?”

x—x—x

Hours later, Motochika returned to his cabin. Exhaustion had taken hold of him, pulling at his limbs like weights made of lead. The storm had finally cleared up with the rise of the sun and now all he wanted to do was collapse and sleep for as long as his duties as Captain allowed.

“He’s finally asleep, now that the storm’s calmed down,” the man Motochika had asked to watch over Motonari said. He seemed to have taken his task to heart: the dark shadows underneath his eyes revealed that he had remained vigilant and had not allowed himself a wink of sleep.

“Good,” Motochika said, sitting down heavily. They were silent for a few moments while Motochika took off his shoes. They were drenched, just as the rest of him.

Out of the blue, the other man quietly asked: “Think he’ll adjust?”

Motochika looked up; glancing towards the bundle of blankets Motonari had curled up in. From his vantage point, only the top of Motonari’s head was visible, brown strands of hair fanning out over the pillow. The sight made something in his chest ache.

He thought about how unresponsive Motonari had become after they’d lost the amulet for good. It had been frightening, to see him so utterly blank – so still and quiet. Motonari had not only lost his tail, he’d lost his home, too. Could he recover from that? Would he be able to adjust to life on land?

Motochika sighed and shrugged helplessly.

“Honestly, at this point… who knows?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who DIDN'T see that coming?
> 
> Hikoji is one of Motochika’s men in the anime. I re-watched the second season with a friend some time ago and realized a couple of his men were actually given names… I’d completely forgotten. My bad, my bad. The other two I caught were Bekinosuke and Yataro.
> 
> The next two chapters are already fully planned out, but after that, the world becomes a bit of an open sandbox and I’ll be free to work in any suggestions or requests you might have before the story heads off into another tightly plotted section. Basically what I’m saying is: if there’s anything you’d like to see, tell me now so I can figure out a way to hopefully work in your ideas.


	13. Gaze Into the Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: As a terrible storm rages, Motochika waits for Motonari to arrive at the designated meeting spot – only to find that the merman has been turned into a human. Motochika rescues Motonari from drowning. Shortly after, a crow – later revealed to be Kotaro – steals the Stone of Ascension and brings it to its master. Kiromaru chases after the bird, his fate unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I actually managed to get this done. Sorry for the massive, massive wait! Anyway...
> 
> Enjoy!

There was a voice inside his head.

It echoed around in his mind, drowning out all thought and leaving nothing but a dull, painful throb behind. Occasionally, it scraped against the inside of his skull as if seeking to pry his head apart.

It _hurt._

“I have brought hell fire upon this world, flames to purge all sin from these lands. But still the Earth remains near untouched by my wrath.”

He gritted his teeth and clutched at his hair, hard enough to nearly tear the roots from his scalp. Even with his eyes shut tight he could see it: a figure standing before him, looming large. It was nothing more than a shadow, its black outline flickering and wavering as if caught on the cusp between this world and the next.

“Still, I must do more than lament. I have been chosen, blessed with an occasion to once more walk this Earth… and end it.”

The figure turned to face him, its glowing red eyes settling on his crumpled form. An impassive face regarded him, bestowing upon him the mild curiosity one might give an ant struggling to carry a burden several times its weight.

“To slumber upon the charred and blackened remains of this cursed realm… that is my most solemn wish.”

The figure stepped closer and he began to writhe on the ground in blinding agony.

“And you shall be the fortunate one to grant it.”

x—x—x

Motonari sat up and screamed.

Someone was at his side in an instant, a large hand descending on his shoulder. Motonari flinched and drew back, lashing out. All he could see were black tendrils rushing towards him, reaching for him like a dozen grasping hands.

“Calm down, Mori,” a familiar voice said. “It’s not real. It was just a dream. Come on, snap out of it!”

Someone shook him and the shadowy hands abruptly disappeared from his sight. Instead he found himself staring into Motochika’s worried face, too close to his own. Motonari tensed up and glared, disoriented and defensive. At once, Motochika backed off to give him his space.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” Motonari said stoically, fighting to calm his racing heart. His hands were trembling so he put them in his lap, tightly lacing his fingers together in an attempt to hide the shaking.

Motochika threw him a sympathetic look.

“That bad, huh… remember anything?” 

Motonari opened his mouth to reply – only to close it again with a frown. He paused, trying to recall his dream, but the harder he tried to hold onto the images the quicker they faded. All he was left with in the end was a bone-deep feeling of unease and the vague sense that he had forgotten something important.

“Nothing,” he finally replied.

“Well, probably for the best.” Getting to his feet, Motochika asked: “You want some water? You’ve been out cold for more than a day.”

Touching his throat and realizing only now that it was absolutely parched, Motonari nodded.

As Motochika walked away, Motonari took stock of his situation. The room he was in was dark, only lit by a lamp on the table, but he recognized it as easily as he would have recognized his own quarters down below the sea: he was in Motochika’s cabin. The gentle swaying of the room told him they were still out at sea.

A map and several scrolls were scattered on the table. Apparently, Motochika had been hard at work despite the late hour. Motonari peered out the window near his head. It was a clear night, no clouds in the sky to hide the stars and not a single trace left of the storm that had nearly cost him his life.

That storm…

Motonari clenched his jaw and placed a hand against his chest. In place of the Stone of Ascension he found a sensitive patch of slightly raised skin that sent a twinge of pain through him when he touched it. The details of what exactly had happened at Honno-ji were hazy, but he could vividly recall the Stone suddenly burning hot against his flesh during the ritual.

Motonari shuddered as his thoughts strayed to that day.

They had succeeded in charging the Stone of Ascension… and in exchange, something had been taken from him.

He didn’t want to see but he needed to look.

And so he held his breath and lifted the blankets someone had wrapped him up in. A chill ran down his spine when his lower body was exposed – a chill that had little to do with the cool night breeze drifting in through the slightly ajar window.

His tail was gone.

In its stead he now possessed a pair of human legs, designed for a life on land and not one spent in the cool embrace of the sea. To him, they looked ungainly and awkward. Ugly, even. He could barely stand to look at them.

Bitterly, Motonari pondered the irony of waking up from one nightmare only to find himself trapped in another – one that he could not escape from.

“Here,” Motochika said, handing him a cup of water.

Motonari covered himself up again and took the cup silently, bringing it to his lips. The water felt good sliding down his throat but it settled unpleasantly in his stomach once he'd swallowed it all.

He felt sick.

Lowering the cup he let it rest in his lap, staring at the blankets that effectively hid his new reality from view. If only forgetting were quite as easy...

“What happened to you?” Motochika asked after the silence had dragged on for too long.

His face was impossibly gentle when Motonari raised his head to look at him. Immediately, Motonari's spine straightened and the line of his shoulders grew tense. He'd never liked being the centre of anyone's concern. The idea of having his weaknesses exposed for the world to see left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Do you _pity_ me?” he spat.

“No,” Motochika said. When Motonari's glare did not ease, he rolled his eye. “Perhaps. Depends, I suppose.” He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow. “Did you have it coming?”

Motonari huffed and looked away. That Motochika would so quickly jump to that conclusion was... telling, to say the least. And oddly irritating, too.

“Damn it, Mori,” Motochika said, sitting down at his bedside heavily. “What did you _do?_ Who'd you piss off?”

“I suppose I've angered a great many, over the years,” Motonari mused, avoiding the question. “Not through any fault of my own, naturally. Lesser minds simply do not take too kindly to being confronted with true brilliance, I'm afraid.”

Motochika scoffed but shot him a wry smile. “It's a blessing and a curse, I'm sure.” Then he threw Motonari a pointed look. “More of a curse in this case, I guess,” he said, nudging his knee against Motonari's covered legs.

“Humph.”

“So that amulet,” Motochika casually said, beginning to interrogate him again. Motonari sighed, knowing he wouldn't let up until he had his answers. “Bit more than just a pretty piece of merfolk history, huh? The Stone of Ascension, you called it?”

“Yes,” Motonari finally relented, a little bitterly. “A legendary artefact said to grant its bearer unimaginable power rivalled only by the gods.”

“And you were gonna use it to overthrow your King.”

It was easy to forget, sometimes, that Motochika possessed a startlingly astute mind underneath his obnoxious attitude. Motonari wondered if he would ever grow out of this dangerous habit he had of underestimating him.

“...Something along those lines,” Motonari replied.

“Because he's a tyrant.”

Vaguely, Motonari recalled referring to King Hideyoshi as such in Motochika's presence. He shrugged. “Well, yes.”

“Bullshit,” Motochika said flatly. “You wanted to take the throne for yourself.”

Irritated that Motochika had seen right through him and that he dared to judge him for his ambitions so openly, Motonari stiffly said: “He _is_ a tyrant. Even if he were not... my motivations hardly matter _now_ , do they?”

Bitterly, Motonari gestured to his lap.

Motochika seemed chastised by the reminder of his loss, but only momentarily. Quickly enough, the ire that had begun to build underneath the surface was back. “So you really didn't plan on coming back, huh? You were gonna take that stone and fuck over your King and rule it all and never waste another thought on the world up here.”

Motonari stared, caught off guard. Then he narrowed his eyes, wondering why Motochika cared so much. To him, there was only one reason that came to mind: Motochika was upset that Motonari had intended to break off their arrangement.

“I rather think I've provided you with enough treasure to last you a lifetime these past few months. Were you not satisfied yet? Did you want _more?_ ”

“It's not about the treasure,” Motochika said impatiently. “It's about you just... planning on not coming back without so much as an explanation, let alone a proper farewell. Are you really that cold?”

Motonari bristled. “I know this may be shocking to you, _pirate_ , but my world does not in fact revolve around you and these little, meaningless trips I've been making to the surface. You're _nobody_ to me.”

A look of anger flashed across Motochika's face but just as quickly as it had appeared it was gone again, hidden underneath a carefully composed expression.

“That's harsh,” he said.

“The truth often is,” Motonari replied, absolutely merciless in his irritation and his grief.

Even in the dim light, Motonari could see Motochika's jaw working as he ground his teeth, clearly biting down on a vicious retort that no doubt would not have paled in comparison to Motonari's own vitriol.

It was frustrating, how Motochika always insisted on being the bigger person – especially now, when all Motonari wanted was to lash out at someone. Not the wisest of choices, perhaps, to alienate the person currently in control over his fate, but _ever_ so satisfying.

Unbidden, the memory of flames dancing across his skin as he reached into the fire came to mind.

It was so easy to get burned.

The air between them sizzled with the heat of their glares as the silence dragged on. It was Motochika who broke eye contact first, his shoulders slumping as he dragged a hand over his face and then through his hair, mussing it up.

“This is so fucked up,” he muttered. Then he composed himself, pinning Motonari with a firm stare. “Alright, so. You took the amulet; you were planning on taking the throne, too. Doesn't look like that worked out for you and somehow, I don't think getting a brand new pair of legs was part of the plan, either. So humour me here. Where did you screw up?”

“I don't believe I owe you an explanation,” Motonari said, primly.

“You owe me your life,” Motochika countered without missing a beat. “And maybe whatever happened to you scrambled your brains so badly you haven't noticed yet, but you're on my ship. You can't walk and you sure as hell can't swim. Even if you could, there's nothing but water around us for miles. Like it or not, until we reach land, you're stuck with me. And I need to know what I'm dealing with here.”

Motonari said nothing, unwilling to admit to any of his miscalculations. So Motochika leaned in, placing an unwanted hand on Motonari's thigh. Motonari tensed up and tried to twist away but Motochika dug his fingers in.

“Who did this to you? Was it that _tyrant Kin_ g of yours? Did he cast you out as punishment for your betrayal, turning you human so you could never try to overthrow him again?”

Gritting his teeth, Motonari said: “King Hideyoshi had little to do with this.”

“Then who did?” Motochika demanded. “And will they be coming after you? A transformation like this takes powerful magic – magic the likes of which I have not seen in all my travels. I'm not asking out of cruelty or idle curiosity; I _need_ to know who your enemies are and if having you here on my ship is a danger to my men.”

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Motonari's stomach, tying it up in knots.

At first, he had assumed Motochika's interest in his current predicament to be a result of pity, perhaps even genuine concern. Now, however, it felt as if Motochika were weighing the risks of keeping him around up against his potential usefulness.

And without his tail and the ability to dive down deep into the sea and provide Motochika with treasure, it was easy to see that Motonari had outlived his usefulness.

There was only one logical course of action for Motochika here, and that was to leave Motonari to his own devices.

It was what Motonari would do.

Motochika snorted. “Don't look at me like that, Mori,” he said, a reprimand in his tone. “You're a prick and an arrogant bastard, yeah, but I'm not gonna up an' abandon you just 'cause the water's getting a little hot, if that's what you're thinkin'. I just need to know what we're up against here so I can prepare. You get that, right?”

Motonari could only stare, very much _not_ getting it. Motochika did not stand to gain anything here, and he had everything to lose – logic dictated that he should cut all ties and let Motonari handle his own mess.

There was no reason for Motochika to make Motonari's problems his own.

“I have nothing of value to offer you,” Motonari said after a few moments had passed, speaking very slowly as if talking to a particularly dense child. “Not anymore.”

Motochika snorted again. “I'm not keeping you around because you're useful. I told you, none of this is about the treasure.” Very gravely and with a perfectly straight face, he added: “I'm keeping you around for your _delightful_ company.”

“Bullshit,” Motonari said bluntly, feeling the absurdity of Motochika's statement warranted such an uncharacteristic response.

Motochika let out a short bark of a laugh, mirth dancing in his visible eye and his lips curling into a grin. “Yeah, okay, you got me. You suck, you're a total dick and I should be feeding you to the fishes.” He spread his arms wide, the gesture encompassing the whole room. “Yet here we are.”

Motonari was quiet for a few moments, then he said: “I don't understand you, Chosokabe.”

“Obviously,” Motochika dryly said. He leaned forward, regarding Motonari with an expectant look. “Now tell me what happened.”

Motonari sighed and finally yielded.

He had a lot to tell.

x—x—x 

The lamp on the table had grown dim by the time Motonari finished telling his tale.

He was thankful for the silence that followed. Recounting the events that had reduced him to this sorry state had been exhausting. He felt hollowed out now, and so impossibly tired.

In the quiet darkness of Motochika's cabin, the reality of his situation finally set in.

For years now he had entertained the notion of overthrowing King Hideyoshi and reclaiming his place as the rightful ruler of Aki. A lofty ambition to be sure, but nothing that could not be accomplished with careful planning.

Now, however...

Now, it was nothing but an impossible dream.

The sense of hopelessness hanging over him was so heavy it almost felt like a physical sensation.

“That's a fine mess you've gotten yourself into,” Motochika said at last, pulling Motonari from his quickly darkening thoughts before he could give himself over entirely to despair.

He refused to be grateful for the distraction.

Undeterred by his silence, Motochika leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. He studied Motonari, looking determined in the low light. “Alright. I think I've got the general gist of it now. The King and his advisor, envoys from the East, assassins, sea witches... Quite the character it seems, that last one.”

“A pitiful creature with a broken, disturbed mind,” Motonari agreed. “And regretfully, the source of all my strife.”

Motochika snorted and shot him a wry look. “Yeah, I don't know about _that._ Looks to me like the biggest source of all the bad shit that keeps happening to you is your own ambition. So I guess you've only got yourself to blame, here.”

Motonari stiffened, remembering how one of the first things Motochika had done after he had woken up was to ask him if he'd _had it coming_. With a voice like ice he hissed: “Are you saying I _deserved_ to be violated?”

Quickly sobering up at that, Motochika caught Motonari's hand in his. All traces of amusement had disappeared from his expression, leaving a look of utmost sincerity behind. Motonari curled his lips in distaste, leaning away and trying to pull his hand out of Motochika's grasp.

The pirate wouldn't let him.

Squeezing Motonari's hand to lend extra emphasis to his words, Motochika firmly said: “No one deserves that. And if I could somehow undo it all, believe me, I would.”

Motonari sneered at Motochika's foolishness, too much of a realist to be taken in by such pretty sentiments. Did Motochika really think hearing such things would make Motonari feel better?

Well, it _didn't._

And yet... Motonari could tell that Motochika really, truly meant it. He wouldn't hesitate to try and move a mountain for those he held dear, and somehow, Motonari had managed to worm his way onto that list.

Throat suddenly dry, Motonari was the first to break eye-contact. He glanced off to the side, a frown marring his features.

“As always, the extent of your stupidity astounds me,” he muttered under his breath.

Motochika laughed and let go of Motonari's hand at last, his touch leaving an irritating tingling sensation behind. “Your prickliness, on the other hand, is hardly cause for surprise,” Motochika countered, lips splitting into a wide grin when Motonari glared at him.

“You are a fool, Chosokabe.”

“Eh, I've been called worse,” Motochika said with an unconcerned shrug. Then he threw Motonari a considering look, beginning to drum his fingers against his knee in an uneven rhythm. “Alright, so. That was a lot of information to take in. But I'm still a little curious about that ritual. You've barely talked about it.”

“And with good reason – the whole incident was a far cry from pleasant.”

“I'd still like to hear the details so we can figure out a way to reverse this thing.”

Motonari slowly curled his hands into tight fists, knuckles turning white. It was difficult to keep his breathing even and his body still. “It cannot be done. Not without the Stone of Ascension. And since you've so skilfully managed to let some strange seagull make off with it...”

For a split-second, guilt crossed Motochika's face. Then he grew offended, eye flashing. He held up one finger. “Okay, first of all, I put my ass on the line for that thing. In case you forgot, I literally risked my life trying to get it back. So cut me some slack here, alright?”

Another finger went up.

“Secondly, not every bird is a seagull, you know. The thieving bastard that stole your gaudy jewellery? That was a crow. At least get your facts straight if you're gonna go and guilt-trip me.”

Motonari huffed. “Does it _really_ matter what kind of bird it was? The end result remains the same. The Stone of Ascension is gone, and consequently I am stuck indefinitely with these... _appendages_.”

He nearly spat that last word, gesturing towards his lap. The blanket covered his new legs but even when they were out of sight Motonari could never forget.

He shuddered just thinking about how _wrong_ having them felt.

Motochika fell silent, a hard look on his face. After a few moments had passed, he said with fierce determination burning in his eye: “...I'll find a way to fix you. I promise.”

Motonari scoffed bitterly. “ _You?_ Don't make me laugh. A mindless piece of plankton would have better chances of success.”

“Just tell me about the damn ritual so I can figure out how to prove you wrong, you pompous ass,” Motochika said through gritted teeth. Despite his coarse language he had not raised his voice, visibly fighting to keep his cool.

“ _I told you_ ,” Motonari said, feeling helpless and angry all at once. “Without the Stone of Ascension, there is no point!”

“We won't know that until we try,” Motochika insisted. “So stop being a stubborn prick and give it up!”

“ _I cannot be done,”_ Motonari hissed. To believe otherwise would only be setting himself up for heartache when his hopes were inevitably dashed.

“Look, I'm trying to help here,” Motochika said, scowling.

“Feel free to refresh my memory should I have lost it along with my tail... But did I ever ask for your help?” Motonari said. “Besides, as you so helpfully pointed out earlier, we're dealing with extremely powerful magic, here. And what does an uncultured, ignorant oaf like you know about magic?”

“Not a whole lot, I'll admit. But to be fair, that's probably about as much as you know.” Motochika threw Motonari a challenging look. “Am I right?”

Seething in anger and loathe to concede the point, Motonari still found himself saying: “...Well. You aren't necessarily _wrong._ ”

“See?” Motochika said, and Motonari absolutely despised the smug tone he took with him. “So. Tell me everything.”

Motonari sighed heavily. “...Fine. A fair warning, though: I don't remember much.”

Motochika shrugged. “Every little bit helps. Even if there isn't much, I'll still have a better idea what to research and which information to be on the lookout for.”

“Right,” Motonari said, still doubting Motochika's capabilities. Despite his misgivings, he forced himself to think back to the night of the ritual again. A shiver danced down his spine and he pulled his blankets higher in an attempt to ward himself against the sudden chill overtaking his body.

“So?” Motochika prompted when Motonari failed to speak. “What do you remember?”

Motonari let out a short, humourless huff of a laugh. “Pain, mostly.”

Motochika frowned, visibly torn between sympathy and a desire to reprimand Motonari for his unhelpful comment. There was another moment of silence as Motonari leaned back and gathered his thoughts.

Finally, he spoke.

“As you know, I met with the sea witch at Honno-ji. She was waiting for me near the courtyard the ritual was to take place in. At the time, I didn't think there was any significance to it, but in the centre of that courtyard there was a symbol on the ground that I now believe to have been a key element in the ritual's success.”

“A symbol?”

“Yes, very similar to a stylized flower in design. After the sea witch insisted I wear the Stone of Ascension, she pulled a knife and—”

Motochika looked alarmed. “Wait, she _attacked_ you?”

Annoyed at the interruption, Motonari sent Motochika a sharp glare. “ _No_ ,” he said pointedly. “It was a ritual knife. She used it to cut into her own arm. Her blood, it—didn't disperse in the water. It sank to the ground instead, spreading along the lines of the symbol I mentioned. Soon, the symbol in its entirety was red with her blood.”

“Creepy,” Motochika muttered. Privately, Motonari agreed. After a few moments of contemplative silence had passed, Motochika spoke up again. “Guess we'll be researching blood-letting rituals, then. I'd like to look into that symbol, too. Think you can draw it from memory?”

“...I could _try,_ at least,” Motonari said, frowning. “But I make no promises. Everything related to the ritual is—hazy. I cannot guarantee the accuracy of my memory.”

“Still, worth a shot,” Motochika said as he got up and walked towards the table. He returned with the lamp and everything needed for drawing. He placed a book in Motonari's lap to provide a flat surface for the piece of parchment he'd brought, then he held out an ink jar and a brush for Motonari to take.

Accepting the items, Motonari dipped the brush into the ink and drew what he remembered.

Motochika leant in, cocking his head to the side in contemplation as he studied Motonari's drawing. “Well,” he said after a long pause. “You're certainly not gonna be winning any prizes any time soon. But I guess it does kind of look like a flower of sorts?”

Choosing to ignore Motochika's dig about his lack of artistic talent, Motonari handed everything he'd been given back to Motochika. He supposed it was a long shot, but... “Do you recognize it?”

Motochika shook his head. “Nah. Though I figure it couldn't hurt to ask around, see if anyone else has seen it before.” He grinned. “Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky.”

With a bitter scoff, Motonari turned away from the sight of Motochika's smile. “Luck has not favoured me lately.”

“Which is exactly why you're due a break,” Motochika replied, refusing to let Motonari's pessimism deter him. He got up again, putting everything back in its place and sliding the drawing into a well-worn book Motonari suspected to be his Captain's logbook. Sitting down beside Motonari again, he asked: “Alright, so what happened next?”

Motonari turned his gaze inwards, trying to recall the exact sequence of events. “The sea witch began to chant,” he said, sure of that much at least. “But...” The frown on his face deepened. “I can't seem to recall what she said.”

Leaning forward, Motochika said: “Try. Could be important.”

Closing his eyes in concentration, Motonari attempted to replay her words in his mind. But the harder he tried to make sense of those memories, the more impossible a task it seemed. It was like trying to hold onto a handful of sand when swimming through a strong current: somehow, the grains always seemed to slip through the cracks, no matter how hard you clenched your fingers.

“There was... something about blood,” Motonari said at last, his frown now so deeply etched into his face that he was starting to look strained. He opened his eyes again, looking puzzled. “And... a cuckoo? Whatever that is.”

“It's a type of bird,” Motochika said, stroking his chin in thought. “Are you _sure_ that's what you heard?”

“Quite positive, yes. I remember that single word very clearly, precisely because I didn't recognize it at the time.”

“Doesn't that strike you as odd?”

“It _is_ strange,” Motonari agreed. “Why would a sea witch of the merfolk speak of a creature only found in the human world?”

“Maybe she learned that spell from a human,” Motochika ventured a guess. “Which I guess is good news for us. If that ritual really has human origins, finding information on it is gonna be a whole lot easier. What else do you remember?”

Motonari closed his eyes once more, sifting through the haze in his mind and trying to put the bits and pieces he could recall into some semblance of order. He brought up his hands to massage his temples, seeking to soothe the dull ache that was starting to form there.

“I couldn't move,” he said at last, shivering as he relived that feeling of helplessness. He opened his eyes, staring into the distance. “No matter how hard I struggled, my body just wouldn't obey me. And then... the amulet started glowing.”

“I'm guessing that's where that burn mark came from?” Motochika asked, gesturing towards Motonari's chest.

Instinctively, Motonari placed a hand against the mark in question. Hiding it from view didn't soothe the sudden phantom pain he felt – as if the amulet were still there, burning a hole right into his flesh.

“...Yes. The stone was cold to the touch at first, but then...” He swallowed. “It burned.”

There was a beat of silence.

“What happened next?”

Motonari took a deep breath, his legs twitching involuntarily underneath the blanket. “Overwhelming pain,” he answered. “It felt very much like I was getting torn apart.” A shadow of a smile flitted across his features, brief and bitter. “In retrospect, I suppose that is exactly what happened.”

Motochika winced, and for a moment, Motonari thought the pirate might reach out and give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. But he stayed his hand, opting instead to touch his own chin, stroking it in thought. “So that's the amulet's true power, then? Turning merfolk human?”

It was a reasonable conclusion to arrive at, Motonari supposed, given the information available to them. But something didn't sit right with him. He disliked relying on gut feelings and instinct, preferring a more rational approach when it came to analysing a situation, and yet...

And yet he could not silence the quiet but insistent voice at the back of his mind telling him that he was missing something, here.

Something crucially important.

“Perhaps,” Motonari said, not bothering to conceal the doubt in his tone.

“You don't sound convinced,” Motochika remarked, watching him carefully.

“It might be nothing,” Motonari said slowly, unsure if he wanted to share his thoughts with Motochika. “But...” His hand found its way to the red mark burned into his chest, fingertips resting lightly against the sore skin. “I cannot seem to shake the feeling that there is more to this than we realize.”

An unhappy crease on his forehead, Motochika raked a hand through his white hair. “Not gonna lie, coming from you, that sounds pretty damn ominous. Should I be worried?”

Motonari said nothing, gaze unfocused and mind far away as he replayed his disjointed memories of the ritual over and over again, straining to find answers to his questions. He remembered the blood, the heat of the Stone of Ascension, the blinding pain of transformation...

Oichi's unhinged laughter, nearly undistinguishable from her sobs...

And then a voice, inside his head.

He shivered.

Seeming to pick up on Motonari's growing unease, Motochika asked: “Hey, Mori. You okay?”

Motonari started to nod his pounding head, then changed his mind and shook it instead. “No,” he admitted, unsure why. If he were not so busy fighting off a sudden, blinding headache, he would have berated himself for his momentary lapse in judgement.

As it was, he could barely think much less curse himself for dropping his guard, bent over and clutching at his head.

“There was a voice,” he gasped out before gritting his teeth against another pulse of agony. “But I can't...” He squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered, trembling from the mental strain he was putting himself through. “I can't _remember_ what it _said_. Why can I not remember?!”

“Whoa, easy. Don't push yourself too hard,” Motochika said, alarm colouring his tone. His hands on Motonari's shoulders were unwelcome and so he shook them off, but Motochika would not be deterred. He grabbed onto Motonari's wrists instead, pulling his hands away from his hair when he started yanking on it. “Alright, that's enough!”

But Motonari wasn't listening. Something was blocking his memories, as if there were a wall inside his head, sectioning off a part of his mind. It felt distinctly foreign, like that corner of his mind no longer belonged to him, and Motonari could not stand the thought of it.

So he threw himself against that mental barrier with reckless abandon, pushing through the pain in his efforts to shatter it. It was pure agony, but already he could see the first cracks beginning to form, allowing him to catch little glimpses of what lay beyond.

His head felt too small, too full, his breath coming in shallow little pants. A light sheen of sweat covered his entire body. There was so much _pressure_ inside his skull that Motonari was beginning to fear it would break apart and burst open the very second he overcame his mental block.

But he kept pushing and pushing, despite every shred of sanity he had left screaming at him to stop, to back off while he still could. He could almost see it now: a shadowy figure standing before him, fuzzy around the edges, flickering in and out of existence. The sight of it filled Motonari with horror.

Its back was facing him, and when it slowly turned towards him—

Motonari choked on a whimper and began to writhe, body wracked by powerful convulsions. Before his inner eye, he could see a terrible darkness unfold, reaching towards him with a thousand disembodied hands.

He wanted to scream.

He couldn't.

In fact, he couldn't even breathe.

With a distinct note of panic in his voice, Motochika cursed, loudly. “Breathe, Mori,” he commanded, grasping Motonari's shoulders so tightly his grip threatened to bruise him. “You'll get through this, I promise. But you've got to breathe, okay? In and out, nice and easy, slowly, slowly. You can do it, I know you can.”

Motonari made a noise that sounded like someone was strangling him.

Motochika's teeth ground together so tightly they creaked and he shook Motonari, fear making the pirate treat him more roughly than he would have liked. “Come on, just _breathe_ already _,_ damn it!”

Another strangled noise escaped Motonari's throat and his body jerked so violently the sudden motion dislodged Motochika's hands and nearly sent him crashing to the ground.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” Motochika said at once, shaken. “I didn't mean to—shit. Okay, hold on.” He wrapped his arms around Motonari's back and gathered him uncomfortably close against his chest, holding him in place as his body continued to twitch fitfully. “There. Don't worry, I've got you.”

The hold kept Motonari from falling off the bed or hurting himself in some other way, but it did _nothing_ to help his mental state. He felt cornered, trapped. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, wanted to claw his own eyes out and crawl right out of his skin; anything, _anything_ to get away, to escape the arms around him and flee from the dark apparition inside his mind.

It was approaching him now, and it kept getting closer... _closer..._

And as it began to seep through the cracks in his mind, Motonari began to wonder if perhaps the wall inside his head had been protecting him, not restricting him.

“Alright. Okay. So here's what's gonna happen,” Motochika said firmly, with enough resolve to make Motonari take note and listen despite his current turbulent state of mind. “I'm gonna get you through this, and you're going to be okay. You hear that?”

He almost would have sounded perfectly calm, if not for the slight tremble in his voice. Motonari tried to focus on his words, latching onto them as if he were drowning, but it was difficult not to give himself over entirely to dread.

“Focus on my breathing,” Motochika said, and Motonari felt the pirate's chest rise and fall against his own, steadily, calmly. “Just copy what I'm doing,” Motochika murmured and continued taking deep, even breaths.

It didn't help at first. But Motochika kept it up, and eventually, Motonari found himself drawn into his rhythm of inhaling deeply, holding his breath for a moment before releasing it slowly, pausing, then repeating the process.

“That's it,” Motochika praised, tone soft and impossibly soothing.

They did that for several minutes, simply breathing together until the alien presence in Motonari's mind faded and his chest didn't feel quite so tight anymore. He no longer suffered from involuntary muscle spasms or unwanted convulsions, but there was still a light tremor in his hands that he sought to hide by curling his fingers more tightly into the back of Motochika's jacket.

Motonari couldn't say when he had wrapped his arms around Motochika. Under any other circumstances he would be appalled at his own disgraceful behaviour, but right now he couldn't muster up the strength to deny himself this small comfort.

He was too exhausted to pretend he didn't need this.

Motochika continued murmuring quiet reassurances into Motonari's ear and though the exact words were lost on Motonari, the deep timbre of his voice still had him gently slip away into unconsciousness.

Everything went dark and blissfully quiet.

x—x—x

When Motonari stirred again, he found that Motochika's arms were still wrapped around him but his own hold on the pirate had loosened, arms hanging limply at his sides. For a moment or two, he didn't move, simply breathed in the scent of salt and sea and a life lived out in the sun.

It was strange, being held like this. Unfamiliar, and a little constricting, but wonderfully warm.

Despite Motonari's decision to stay still, something must have tipped Motochika off that he had awakened – perhaps a minute change in his breathing had given him away, or perhaps the sudden quickening of his heartbeat was at fault. Either way, Motonari felt Motochika stiffen against him suddenly, guiltily, like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

Motochika pulled away. Motonari let him.

Their eyes met in the dimness of the room, and there was a prolonged moment of silence before Motochika cleared his throat. He couldn't be sure in the low light, but Motonari thought he could see a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

_Interesting_ , he thought, making a mental note of Motochika's reaction and carefully ignoring his own.

Motonari was the first to break the silence. “How long was I out?” he asked, rubbing his temples. There was a dull, pounding ache in his head that he feared would not fade for a few more hours.

“Just a couple of minutes,” Motochika replied, visibly composing himself. Then he looked Motonari over, his gaze sharp but concerned. “How do you feel?”

“...Awful,” Motonari admitted before he could think better of it, continuing the worrying trend of telling Motochika the truth when asked about his well-being. “My head is _killing_ me.”

Placing the back of his hand against Motonari's forehead to feel its temperature, Motochika made a small sound of sympathy. “No wonder,” he said, pulling back with a frown. “You're burning up. Lie down, I'm gonna get you a wet cloth and something to drink.”

A spell of dizziness hit Motonari when he tried to lie down, so he refrained for now. He accepted the water Motochika handed him gratefully and started taking small sips. He finished about half of it before he made a face, deciding he was done.

Putting the water aside, Motonari lay down with Motochika's help. The pirate's large hands helped steady him as he guided him onto his back. A soft sighed fell from Motonari's lips when a wet cloth was placed over his forehead. It felt blissfully cool against his heated skin.

Motonari closed his eyes. On the verge of drifting off again, he spoke, words slightly slurred. “What happened?”

“You passed out.”

At that, Motonari cracked one eye half-way open to shoot Motochika a tired, one-eyed glare. “ _Obviously_ ,” he sneered, his bone-deep exhaustion not enough to dull the sharpness of his tongue.

Motochika shot him a cheeky grin as he tucked the blanket in around Motonari's shoulders. “You had some kind of fit,” Motochika said then, finally deigning to answer Motonari's question. “Seemed pretty serious. You even stopped breathing for a bit there. You really don't remember?”

“Only vaguely,” Motonari murmured, his eye sliding shut again. “It was—painful.” He fell silent for a few moments. “I think I remembered something important. Concerning the ritual, I mean. But...” He frowned, the ache in his head pulsating sharply as he sifted through his tattered memories. “It's gone now.”

“Don't try to force it,” Motochika advised. “One seizure is enough for tonight, I think. Or any other night, for that matter.”

Motonari let out a weak little huff of amusement. “For once, we agree on something.”

As expected, Motochika's laughter was louder than his own, full-bellied and raucous. Motonari had his eyes closed but he could easily imagine how broad his grin was right now, could hear it in his tone when he jokingly said: “Truly, the world must be coming to an end.”

“Who knows?” Motonari mused right before he finally gave in and drifted off to sleep, the words barely louder than a whisper. “Perhaps it is.”

There was no trace of laughter in his tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.
> 
> The 'stylized flower' Mori mentioned is the crest of the Oda clan, for those of you who might not have picked up on that or just plain don't remember what it looks like. Make of that what you will!


End file.
